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POMPEII, EVELYN 



AND OTHER 



POEMS. 



BY 



nii 



WATIE W. SWANZY. 



7-3 




NEW YORK: 

G. IV, Dillingham, Publisher, 

Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. 

MDCCCXC. 



X'^^ 



\ 






CopYRianT, 1889, 
Watie W. SwANzr. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Pompeii 7 

Florence, Italy 15 

The Alps 16 

Colosseum, Rome 18 

Venice 23 

Rome, Italy 25 

Rheinstein ; or The Ride to the Wedding 29 

Sternberg and Liebenstein ; or The Brothers 34 

Lorelei 39 

Time 41 

Roll on! 45 

Aspiration 46 

The Fountain 47 

The Mississippi 49 

Suggested by the Statue in Lincoln Park, Washington, 

D. C 53 

Jefferson 54 

To 55 

Lord Byron in the Armenian Monastery . . 56 

The Roman Forum 57 

Dear Friend of my Youth 58 

Poesy and Nature 59 

Columbia, Weep ! 61 

The Triumph of Christ 67 

The Rock 74 

Jephtha's Daughter 77 

Jesus of Nazareth Passeth by 79 



iv CONTENTS. 

Page 

Immortality 81 

Can we, Great God ? 84 

Before Thy Throne 85 

God's Power 86 

Saviour, Thou Refuge 87 

When the Shades of Eve 88 

Gethsemane 89 

We Know 90 

Our Hungry Souls 91 

Author of Faith 92 

What Can Separate Us 93 

All Praise to Thee 95 

Blest Saviour 96 

Truth 97 

Friend of my Soul 98 

The Bible 99 

God's Aid 100 

Ruler Supreme 101 

Terra Mater 105 

A Cherished Memory 109 

The Listening Angel 110 

Drifting 112 

The Farmer 113 

Bessie Ironing 116 

March 118 

Evening 120 

Violets Lovely 122 

The Storm 123 

Violets 125 

Not Yet 126 

The Miser 128 

Sweet, Sweet! 130 

Ingratitude 131 

Longfellow 132 

Sudden Death 133 



V CONTENTS. 

Page 

The Loiterer 135 

Music 137 

Oh, That Rare October Day ! 138 

Ninety Years 139 

Johnnie Brown 141 

While Walking on the Shore 145 

Strange, hut True 146 

Not Dead, but Sleeps 148 

Raindrops 149 

To 151 

The Call 153 

The Rose 155 

Baby is Asleep ! 156 

Evelyn 159 

Theresa 177 

A Race with the Storm-King 178 

The Humming-Bird 180 

A Song 181 

Three Stages 182 

Serenade 183 

The Snowdrop 185 

Birds of Spring 187 

The Wind-Flower , 189 

The Snow 190 

Golden-Rod 193 

The Cloud 193 

Sing, Little Birdie ! 195 

The Beggar Child 196 

October 197 

Boesy 199 

Some Time 200 

We Would, Lord ! 201 

Lord, I Believe 202 

When Persecuted 208 

The Resurrection Morn 204 



CONTENTS. vi 

Page 

Look, Lord ! 205 

Come to Christ 206 

The Mighty Name 207 

Acquainted with Grief 208 

Taking Deeper Root 209 

Saviour, I Lift Mine Eyes 210 

The Blessed Book 211 

O Lord, I Falter 213 

My Heart Aspires 214 

Hope 215 

The Simple Way 216 

By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them 218 

Lord, We Approach Thee 219 

Christmas Bells 220 

It is Thy Care 221 

Heavenly Father ! 222 

May the Holy Spirit 223 

Dwell with Me 224 

God of Mercy ! 225 

WhenlEecall 226 

Deus 227 



POEMS, 



POMPEII. 



The sunset's changing glory bright 
Shone full on clouds of snowy white, 
That, floating high in ether blue, 
Fast changing to the rose's hue, 
Were in the Crescent's crystal flow 
Brightly reflected far below. 
The distant shore seemed all ablaze 
With the sun's last ling'ring rays, 
And o'er the dreamy hills theie hung 
A purple veil by evening flung. 
Sweet Luna smiled but faintly, yet 
Seemed waiting for the sun to set. 
Shrinking from his gorgeousness. 
His ruby face and dazzling dress. 



POMPEII. 

Amidst this bright and tranquil scene 
A mountain stood, cahn and serene. 
Around his brow a vaporous wreath 
Curled, and, wafted by each breath, 
Streamed far adown his rugged side, 
Then quickly by the airy tide 
Was lifted high, and, floating out. 
Seemed longing still to cling about 
His towering crest, for one faint thread 
Of silver mist the cloud outspread 
Still held. Thus like a phantom tree 
It stood, and gently waving free, 
Loosed from its clinging hold, at last 
Rose high and higher, till it passed 
Like soaring bird from sight away, 
Among the mists of closing day. 

II. 

A plain with wealth of herbage green 

Lay spread the bay and mount between. 

Upon its undulating breast 

A city smiled in peace and rest. 

Within its high embattled walls 

The pride of wealth, and all it calls 

Its own, hold sway midst pomp and power. 

While wanton pleasure fills each hour 

That silently, on noiseless wheels, 

Kolls by to music soft that steals 

Along the sense in lulling strains 

Like siren notes which hold in chains 



POMPEII. 

The wills of those who pause to hear, 

Dragging them down to death so drear. 

And that devouring monster dire, 

Idolatry, in arms of fire 

Yon city holds ; and how great God, 

Who laid the eternal spheres, withstood 

His kindled wrath 'gainst those who paid 

To hideous forms, human made, 

The homage due to Him alone, 

Y/as wonderful. Yet years had flown, 

While graciously on all He shed 

His bounties manifold, and fed 

With tend'rest care those truant souls. 

But, sure as yonder planet rolls 

Its orbit round this world, 'twill come, — 

All shall receive their final doom. 

m. 

The last faint gleam of golden day 
From earth and sky has passed away ; 
And where the dazzling light now shone, 
All is changed to sombre tone. 
The bleating sheep and lowing herd. 
The country maid and twitt'ring bird, 
Alike have gone to sweet repose. 
That only innocence e'er knows. 
But yonder city's busy life 
Still ebbs and flows 'raid noisy strife. 
The hurrying feet and burdened heart 
Turn, weary, from the crowded mart 



10 POMPEII. 

To seek relief and quiet rest 
Among those scenes, of all the best, 
Sweet home's kind, endearing charms, 
The soft caress of loving arms. 
Thus the bustle and the din 
Grow faint and fainter, till within 
All is silent, hushed in sleep, 
Excepting those who vigils keep 
Around some dying loved one's couch ; 
Or some on crime intent, who crouch 
Low in the darkest, deepest shade, 
By towering wall or turret made. 
Closed at last, with jar and clang, 
That through the night discordant rang, 
"Were all the city's massive gates — 
The dozing guard the morn awaits. 

IV. 

The morning dawned, that awful day, 
Calm and peaceful. It's mild light lay 
On proud Vesuvius' towering head. 
From which the mystic cloud had fled, 
And, reaching out upon the plain, 
Awoke to life the twitt'ring train, 
From warblers 'raong the olive leaves 
To insects creeping 'neath the sheaves. 
The early hunter climbs the mount, 
Pausing near the gushing fount. 
Bending o'er its mossy brink 
A cool, refreshing draught to drink. 



POMPEn. 11 

Then liigli, and higher still, he goes, 

Treading paths that no one knows. 

The merry milkmaid sings a song 

As she gaylj trips along, 

Pond'ring o'er the words last night 

"Were whispered 'neath the moon's pale light. 

Words which said, •' No long delay 

Shall keep our nuptial day away." 

The laborer clasps within his arms 

The baby boy, and her whose charms 

First won his wild and wayward heart 

From war and strife to play love's part ; 

But as he bids a fond good- by. 

His heart feels sad, he knows not why. 

Thus all upon that morn awoke 

To life and love. Nought breathed or spoke 

Of that dread hour, so close at hand. 

When oblivion would hold the land. 



The coutadino* wends his way 

With song and merry roundelay, 

Bearing within his rustic cart 

His dewy flowers and fruits to mart. 

Too early he for dozing gnard, 

He finds the gates still closely barred ; 

But, like the trumpeters of old. 

He sings until the gates unfold. 

Then, calculating o'er and o'er 

* Countryman, 



12 POMPEII. 

The value of bis precious store, 

He lieedeth not the thronging street, 

The gay attire and hurrying feet, 

Or glance of spear, and burnished shield, 

Or dagger's point but half concealed, 

Which tell that in yon circus now, 

With bloodshot eyes and fierce-knit brow, 

Ready with lance and spear in hand, 

The gladiators, waiting, stand ; 

For are they not to try this day 

Their skill and prowess ? Some to slay, 

And some, while the exultant shout goes high- 

Ignobly where they fall — to die. 

The imperial will this day decreed 

Should every other day exceed 

In revelry and bloody sport ; 

And he with all his minion court 

Would join the gath'ring throng who crowd 

The amphitheatre. Soon loud 

The shout is heard above the din, 

" Let the gladiators come in !" 

VI. 

The tardy trumpet sounds at length 
Its clarion call, when in their strength. 
Midst wild applause, from out their den 
They rush within the arena. What men I 
Their giant forms and sinews strong- 
Bespeak the struggle, hard and long ; 



POMPEII. 13 

But as they stand arrayed for fight, 

And bear each other down with might, 

A sound is heard as though great Jove 

Had loosed the eternal thunders, and strove 

To rend M^ith one united blast 

The earth in twain. All stand aghast 

With horror pale, for, lo ! they see 

The mountain belching forth a sea 

Of fire and blackening smoke, which soon 

Obscures the glorious light of noon. 

In wild confusion, while some implore 

Their deities, and midst the roar 

Of thunder's peal and earthquake's shock, 

Which cause the city's walls to rock 

And reel, falling with sudden crash, 

And midst the lightning's lurid flash, 

And yonder mountain's fiery glare, 

And the appalling darkness hov'ring there. 

Pours forth the terror-stricken throng. 

Who rush tumultuously along, 

As if hurrying to meet their doom. 

In the sulphuric heat and gloom ; 

For the burning tempest soon descends 

O'er all the city. Nought defends. 

It burns its way through roof and wall, 

And with the blist'ring heat they fall 

In burning agony, and die. 

An avenging God heeds not their cry. 



14 POMPEII. 



VII. 



All day the tempest of fire falls, 
Covering at length tower and walls. 
Oh, what a change ! The mountain's side, 
The verdant plain, the river's tide, 
The city, have passed from sight away. 
The evening's glory and morning's ray, 
As oft in future time they come. 
Will find no more the peaceful home 
That stood upon the mountain's side ; 
For there, alas ! a fiery tide 
Goes seething down, and never more 
Will flov7ers bloom, or sweet birds pour 
Their happy strains from sheltering tree. 
All, all have fled. Nought e'er will be 
That e'er has been, for in their stead 
Will ever rest a lava bed. 



FLORENCE, ITALY. 15 

FLORENCE, ITALY. 

Oh, well I love tliee, Florence ! All thy towers 
As seen from Coll'i's* height are nought to me 
But bright minarets of enchanted bowers, 
Trulj' love and beauty reign over thee. 
Thy gentle people, whose mild, dark eyes beam 
Ever kindly on the stranger within 
Thy gates, are lovers of beauty, and such 
Sweet, child-like ways possess, fear not the truth 
To speak. Thy love of innocent sport well 
We know. Have we not seen thy flovv'ry day 
Of carnival, when the perfumed missiles fly, 
Until, from St. Mineato's height, sounds 
The curfew that warns of approaching night. 

Whatever of evil thy dukes have wrought 
Is mended somewhat by their love of art ; 
For where they saw true genius struggling forth 
They gave a helping hand, and so have left 
Within thy walls treasures of ancient lore ; 
Along thy streets, on pedestal, in niche. 
Or beneath the fountain's fast-falling spray, 
Monuments sublime. But the most I prize 
Thy long-arched corridors, where Angelo 
And Raphael do speak to us by saints 
And angels, and Mary, mother of God, 
Upon whose brow purity sits enthroned. 
So did those delineators old seek 
True inspiration from the Holy Book. 

•A hill. 



16 THE ALPS. 



THE ALPS. 

Thy towering peaks, O mighty Alps! arise 

From out the deepening shadows of the past 

Like sunlit spires above the shades of night 

Seen from some proud eminence afar. 

On thy summits rest the eternal snows, 

In semblance of the purity sublime 

Of Heaven, from which streams of living waters 

flow. 
Those rocky heights that rise, piercing the sky, 
And against which the fleeing clouds do break 
Themselves, and where the snowy avalanche 
Forms and falls on the silent rivers of ice 
Below, with deep-toned thunder, are summits 
Whereon Orion and the sweet Pleiades, 
All the shining hosts of Heaven, pause to rest 
On their eternal revolutions. Time, 
In his onward course, seems not to touch thee. 
Unlike this lower world, that under his 
Fierce sway becomes changed in its aspect, thou 
Hast stood the same for ages past ; and who 
Can say thou wert not then, as now, when time 
Began his first cycle ? 

Ambitious man 
Is powerless to subdue thee, although 
He has oft fearlessly scaled thy steep sides, 



THE ALPS. 17 

Reaching the summit of tliy highest peaks. 
Yet he could not long remain there : thy airs 
Are too ethereal for his sluggish powers 
To inhale; and, faint, exhausted, he comes back 
To lowlier scenes, content to gaze on thee 
As thou standst enveloped in the blue mist 
Of distance, which mellows and softens thee. 

Oh, what a hymn sublime thou singst to God 

Who formed thee ! and I join thy anthem of praise 

Gladly, with all questionings of His right 

To create and control silenced. Did he 

Not, with his attendant seraphim, pause 

On thy summits, and look down upon his 

Handiwork spread out before him ? Methinks 

He did ; and all things in audible voice 

Did loudly glorify and worship Him. 



18 COLOSSEUM, ROME, 



COLOSSEUM, ROME. 

Midst all the ruins Koine can boast, — 

And they are many — thou art most 

Magnificent and most sublime, 

Standing proof, as it were, 'gainst time. 

Yet, as I approach to nearer view, 

I find, alas ! 'tis all too true. 

Thy iron-pierced walls are charred ; 

Thy former splendor basely marred, 

Not by crumbling time alone, 

But by ruthless man it was done. 

Still successfully dost thou uphold 

The weight of centuries so old. 

That, like the distant mountain's face. 

They are almost hid through mists of space. 

But with the penetrating eye 

Of history we can descry 

Their varied forms, although fierce Time 

Has smoothed the edge of many a criuic, 

As well as marred the better act 

That stood out boldly forth intact. 

As thou, in former splendor grand, 

Fresh from the architectural hand. 

Oft when I pass within thy walls. 
And o'er me thy deep shadow falls, 
Imagination brings again 



COLOSSEUM, ROME ' 19 

Those ancient Romans, warlike men, 

Who crowd jon corridors with life, 

Assembled here to watch the strife, 

Perhaps, of gladiators bold, 

Whose gallant deeds had oft been told ; 

Or the still more wild affray 

Of man and beast, — a strange display 

Of what the ignorant heart can, 

In its wild estate, do and plan. 

For war and plunder, blood and strife, 

Then filled the measure of a Roman's life. 

They seem more savage than the beast, 

So do they seem to me, at least. 

When, just where yon radiance falls 

Of sunset glory o'er thy walls, 

I see the martyr's fire burn 

Where mortals into angels turn. 

What change hath passed o'er thee since then, 

And o'er the characters of men ! 

In place of those fierce sports of old. 

The rosary is hourly told. 

In rivalry to thee hath risen 

St. Peter's dome, tow'ring towards heaven. 

When thy mouldering steps I climb. 

Forgetful of the lapse of time, 

And slowly mount from tier to tier 

Thy high-arched corridors, I hear 

No jarring sound of strife below. 

Within the arena reigneth now 



20 COLOSSEUM, ROME. 

Unbroken Bilence, save tlie ring 

Of echoes which my footsteps bring, 

Or song of bird, or coo of dove, 

J^estling undisturbed above. 

And pausing where an emperor stood. 

Gazing on some scene of blood, 

With blazonry of vict'ries won, — 

Victories which gave to him renown ; 

Surrounded by the motley throng 

Of courtiers, who the acclaim prolong, 

And who, beneath a canopy 

Of Oriental tapestry. 

With jeweled dames and maidens fair, 

That willingly with them did share 

The bloody scene ; between the acts 

Partook a feast, discoursing facts 

Witnessed below, — pausing there, I find 

All this usurped by trees with ivy twined, 

And wild debris formed from the fall 

Of tott'ring arch or crumbling wall ; 

And where some youth with beauty met, 

Parting, perhaps, with fond regret 

And looks of love from deep, dark eyes, 

Which quickly bring the soft replies, 

I find the owl with vacant stare, 

Or slimy lizard creeping there. 

'Tis strange that thou, so nobly wrought, 

Could not have in thy prime been brought 

To some great crowning earthly good. 

Still thou hast so faithfully stood. 



COLOSSEUM, ROME. 21 

"We cannot now deny to thee 
The homage due thy majesty. 

Yet notwithstanding all the crime 

Was done by man in ancient time 

Within thy walls, and all the years 

That rest upon thy tow'ring tiers 

Of arches, still thou canst uphold 

As many more yet untold ; 

For deep as mountain's base were laid 

Thy firm foundation stones — and staid. 

Oh, shall these future years be wrought 

As those past ages unforgot, 

When monarchs strove supreme to be, 

But fell into obscurity, 

Nought leaving save a few carved stones 

Erected to receive their bones ? 

No, they will march with firmer tread, 

By God's own royal standard led 

Of truth ; for even now its light 

Doth penetrate the heathen's night. 

Illumining their darkened souls 

As when at dawn the morn first rolls 

Her rosy car along the sky. 

Thus causing night's deep shades to fly, 

And ush'ring in the glorious day 

When the sun's unclouded ray 

Will shine o'er all. Then 'neath its light 

The beauties long, long hid from sight 



22 COLLOSSEUM, ROME. 

Will gladden every joyous heart, 
And with new life the pulses start, 
So shall the enlightened nations go 
Forward with the steady flow 
Of mighty stream, which hastes to hide 
Itself within the deeper tide. 



VENICE. 23 



VENICE. 

Bride of the sea ! in beauty wrought 

With marbles white, and carved woods brought 

Erom distant climes across the sea, 

And gems, and stones from Italy, 

Wrought by the sculptor's dextrous art 

To adorn and deck each sacred part 

Of church and grand cathedral tower 

With saints and angels and sculptured flower 

In niche and nave where the meek soul knelt, 

And the palace wide where the Doges dwelt, 

Kose pure and bright in thy veil of mist, 

As a nymph from the bath by Keptune kissed, 

When rosy morn reflected lay 

Blushing sweet on the dimpliug bay 

Whose waters form thy silent streets, 

Filled with thy gay gondola fleets. 

Thus in beauty thou didst stand 

In thy youth. Then thy ships were fanned 

By fav'ring gales. Thy argosies 

Returned from the far-off port Cadiz, 

Laden with spice and merchandise, 

Soft textures fine, and rarest dyes. 

And coarser fabrics, all combined, 

With gems and precious ores refined. 



24 VENICE. 

To fill tlij lap with wealth and ease, 

And crown thee queen of surrounding seas. 

Now, alas ! thou standst with bowed head ; 
Thine eyes are dim, thy smiles have fled. 
Damp thy walls where the seaweed clings, 
Sad the song the gondolier sings. 
As his sable barge he guides along 
With his silent stroke, sure and strong. 
Under the arch of the " Bridge of Sighs," 
And out where the moon's pale light lies 
Like a silver veil cast o'er the face 
Of one who would hide from view each trace 
That Time, the destroyer, may have left, 
And of wealth and grandeur is bereft. 



ROME, ITALY. 25 



ROME, ITALY. 

O Rome, Rome ! I have dreamt of thee 
In my fondest dreams. I have longed to see 
Thy towers amid the halo rise 
Of sweet Italia's sunlit skies, 
And wafted by the fav'ring breeze 
Of fortune cross intervening seas, 
Now where the Csesars stood, I stand, 
Self -exiled from my native land. 

To one whose life hath all been cast 

In a country without a past. 

Thy broken walls and towers seem 

Prophetic in the sunlight's gleam ; 

Though now the march of empire rolls 

Triumphant with its myriad souls, 

And could not by a foreign force 

Be crushed, still might, like thee, perforce. 

By a Brutus' or a Cassius' thrust 

Be left to mingle with the dust ; 

And fewer monuments would leave 

Than thou its glory to retrieve. 

Thy relics are sublime, O Rome ! 
Are rich in lore ; and now I come 
To wander through thy corridors, 
And tread thy old mosaic floors. 



26 ROME, ITALY. 

To build thy palaces again, 

And people all the vacant plain 

And barren hills where thon didst stand 

Supreme in power, triumphant, grand. 

When I wander alone at night 
Beneath the moon's subduing light, 
x\nd thj diminished streets I tread, 
And ponder o'er thy grandeur fled, 
I wonder how it all could be 
Such apathy should come o'er thee. 
"Yon bloody circus now might hold 
The remnant left of thee, twice told. 



LEGENDS OF THE RHINE. 



RHEINSTEm; OR THE EIDE TO THE 
WEDDING. 

In those old days when feudal power reigned, 

When lords and knights their retinue sustained 

By daring raids into tlie foeman's land, 

Destructive and wild, although bravely planned, 

Wiien fear of death no knight of honor knew. 

And the fierce heart of men more liercely grew, 

Until a shaft from Cupid's silver bow 

Changed their life's current, causing it to ilow 

More serenely on, lived a knight whose fame 

Had spread through the land — Sifrid was liis name — 

And wlio, althougli possessing wealth and power, 

Held a treasure which was his richest dower — 

His daughter Gerda, beautiful and fair, 

Whom he had cherished with the tend'rest care, 

And who he found, although it gave him pain. 

He must relinquish. He could not retain 

So fair a prize, for many sought her hand, 

The fame of her beauty had spread through the 

land. 
A brave young knight there dwelt at Heichenstein — 
Knight as noble as any on the Rhine, 
Renowned in combat, but lacking the dower 
Of wealth, still possessing what gave more power 
Among the fail-, — a character reiined. 
Directed alway by a chivah'ous mind. 



30 RHEINSTEIK 

Gerda and Kuno had long been acquaint, 
Together they had lived without restraint ; 
For the two castles joined, seeming like one, 
While Kuno to Sifrid had been as a son. 
Living as they did like sister and brother, 
Thy soon learned in time to love each other. 
At length so many suitors came and went, 
Sifrid decided on a tournament. 
He bade them depart ; said he should from thence 
Proceed straightway to the town of JVlayence, 
Where Gerda in the tourney would assist. 
And all brave knights who wnshed could join the 
list. 

A gayer throng had seldom met before 

On the fair blue Rhine's castellated shore. 

The followers of each enlisted knight 

Did form that day a most attractive sight. 

The knights themselves, drawn up in full array, 

AVith shining armour, banners flaunting gay, 

And neighing steeds with housings bright and new. 

Could well have formed a king's own retinue, 

And cause a maiden's heart to swell with pride 

At thought of being their one chosen bride. 

High above the throng, with her attendant, 

Fair Gerda stood in robes resplendent, — 

Stood the centre of all admiring eyes. 

For her hand was to be the victor's prize. 

'Twas a splendid sight, the tourney that day ; 
And many brave young knights did prostrate lay 



RHEINSTEIK 31 

Before the setting sun, unhorsed on the field, 
Begrimed with earth, with broken lance and shield, 
All vanquished alone by a brave young knight. 
Whose strength, it seemed, was invincible quite. 
'Twas Kuno. How Gerda's heart swelled with 

pride ! 
She loved him more than all others beside ; 
But one, alas ! the lord of Ehrenfels, 
The last on the list, her joy somewhat quells. 
She knows him to be her father's first choice. 
When he rides forth, she hears her father's voice 
In high acclaim; and, bidding him to test 
The strength of that young knight, " Do," he cried, 

"your best !" 
They fiercely charge ; but Kuno, somewhat spent, 
Wavered at the shock ; still love for Gerda lent 
New strength ; but, oh, he fell, that brave young 

knight. 
And Gerda's heart sank o'ercome at the sight. 
The lord of Ehrenfels, called Kurt the Bad, 
Was rightly named, although the dower he had 
Of untold wealth ; 'twas this that Sifrid saw 
When he saluted him as "Son-in-law," 
But Gerda's prayers and tears could not avert 
Her destined marriage with the fierce knight Kurt. 
Pier father would not yield, although she pled 
For a longer delay. No, he instead 
Had set the day, and with a firm command 
Bade her prepare ; the hour was close at hand. 



32 RHEINSTEIN. 

She bedecked herself in costly array, 

Thinking she must her father's will obey ; 

And breathing a prayer to the queen of heaven, 

For her pooi young heart with grief was riven, 

Feeling that she would surely guide aright, 

Calmly advanced towards the awaiting knight ; 

But not without a glance where Kuno stood 

Upon his castle wall in gloomy mood. 

One last request she made, for all must ride 

To the church where they would make her a bride. 

'Twas this, the horse which Kuno gave to her 

Should be brought (the horse had not felt the spur); 

Then, only then, would she follow the knight 

To church, where the priest their hands should unite. 

The good knight Kuno saw them depart, 

While grief and anguish wrung his brave young 

heart. 
He gazed upon them, wending down the hill. 
When a sight he saw that made his heart stand still. 
Just as they reach the church's open door, 
The liorse that the bride so gallantly bore 
Turned quickly around, and before they knew. 
Up the steep, rocky height it swiftly flew, 
On the summit of which the Reichenstein stood. 
Then joy to Kuno's iieart rushed like a flood. 
For he saw the steed bringing to his arms 
His beloved Gerda, with her youthful charms. 
He quickly the castle's broad gates flung wide. 
In rushed the charger with the truant bride; 
Her lio'ht form he ciasued to his beatiner heart. 



RHEINSTEIN. 33 

" Grant, kind Heaven," he cried, " we no more may 

part !" 
While Gerda's blue eyes filled with happy tears 
As he soothed her to quell her rising fears. 
The gates he barred in order to defend 
His beloved, he knew Heaven must intend 
Him to keep Gerda for his own fair bride, 
Sending her so strangely back to his side. 
'Twas needless, all for Kurt, that wicked knight, 
Was thrown from his horse, and killed outright. 
While Sifrid was wonnded and brought on a bier, 
Demanding admittance. So without fear 
They opened wide the gates, Avhen in he came 
To bless them in the Virgin Mother's name. 



3i STERNBERG AND LIEBENSTEIN. 

STEKNBERG AND LIEBEN STEIN; OR THE 
BROTHERS. 



Sweet Hiidegarde of Liebenstein 

In tearful sorrow sat at home, 
Oit gazing up and down the Rhine, 

And oft upon her future home, 
The empty Sternberg, wliile afar 
Conrad fought in the Holy War. 

" Guide, protect him, Holy Mother ! 

Oh, shield him for thy dear Son's sake ! 
Protect thou my foster brother, 

The good Heinrich, who did forsake 
The first of all fair Liebenstein 
To join the wars in Palestine." 

It was the Bernhard's strong appeal 

For crusade to the Holy Land 
That first awoke good Hein rich's zeal — 

Heinrich, who longed for Hildegarde's hand ; 
But when he found she loved another 
And that, too, his only brother. 

He bravely quelled his burning heart. 
And joined the troop of noble knights 

"Were waiting, anxious to de})art 

With waving plumes adown the heights 



STERNBERG AND LIEBENSTEIN. 35 

That rise above the lovely .Rhine, — 
Nobles from many an ancient line. 

He courted death in his despair, 
Welcomed privation and fatigue ; 

But all in vain ; he seemed to bear 

Some charm about him ; league to league 

He joined, until, with half his band. 

He reached at length the Holy Land, 



II. 



Conrad, the ardent, whom she loved, 

Would fain have spread the wedding feast 

Had not his father disapproved. 

Who said that he must wait at least 

Until the castle new was done 

That he was building for his son. 

When 'twas done, alas ! he was dead ; 

The good knight Kurt had passed away ; 
And in place of a bridal bed. 

Oh, there must be a long delay. 
Hildegarde wept with grief and fear. 
The marriage was postponed a year. 

Conrad, disappointed and grieved, 
Weary of waiting, came to regard 

Himself in time somewhat deceived 
About his love for Hildegarde, 



36 STERNBERG AND LIEBENSTEIN. 

And, hearing that his brother's sword 
Was feared by the inlidel horde, 

Quickly the resohition took 
To join at once the holy band, 

And hurriedly his biide forsook. 
Departing from his native land. 

By no holy zeal was he thrilled ; 

To escape his bans his heart was filled. 



III. 



Hildegarde the faithful, the fair, 

Patiently waited his return, 
Followed him daily with a prayer. 

Watched the taper on the altar burn 
Which she placed there the day he left, 
And. her young heart was so bereft. 

Her future home she gazed npon. 
Oft filling it with light and life. 

With pleasures sweet were all their own, 
When she should be her Conrad's wife. 

Little she knew what then was done 

'!Neath the Orient's tropic sun. 

One morn she gazed with wondering eyes 
On travelers passing through the gate 

Of yonder castle, — with surprise 

Did view what seemed was royal state. 



STERNBERG AND LIEBENSTEIN. 37 

Ah ! what can it be? Who would dare 
Without my knowledge enter there ? 

She quickly called her waiting maid, 

And ordered that without delay 
Some inquiry should there be made. 

The message filled her with dismay. 
Conrad the unfaithful had returned 
With his Greek bride — and she was spurned. 



IV. 



Heinrich the true heard what was done 
To Hildegarde by his brother, — 

She whom he loved and would have won 
Soon forsaken for another. 

Revenge deep in his v/arm heart burned 

At thought of fair Hildegarde spurned. 

He traveled on to Liebenstein, 

O'er sea and mountain, vale and river, 

Until he reached the fair blue Rhine, 
Saw the moon on its bosom quiver. 

He quickly sought, although quite late, 

An entrance at the castle gate. 

Heinrich, ignoring ties of race, 
Challenged his brother to combat. 

The woe in Hildegarde's sweet face 
He saw, when in silence she sat, 



38 STERNBERG AND LIEBENSTEIN. 

Was to his bnrniDg heart but fuel. 

The morn should witness a brother-duel. 

V. 

A strange sight at the break of day 
By one unwittingly was viewed : 

For there upon the narrow way 

Between the castles the brothers stood 

With drawn swords. A shriek pierced the air. 

Hildegarde rushed between the pair. 

" Sheath your swords ! Oh, can you not feel? 

What do you wish to do?" she cried. 
" Would you the fratricidal steel 

Plunge into each the other's side ? 
Let fraternal love awaken, 
My decision now is taken. 

" Yes, a convent shall receive me, 
Where I can daily pray to God 

To pour, Heinrich, blessings on thee, 
And forgiveness on you, Conrad." 

She turned away with her attendant. 

And entered for life a neiajhb'rinff convent. 



•i3 



The Greek possessed a fickle heart. 
And Conrad, unknown, entertained 

As guest a rival, who the part 
Beneath his eyes well sustained ; 

For the Greek's false heart the villain won, 

And Conrad's happiness undone. 



LORELEI. 39 



LORELEI. 

Count Herman, near the enchanted rock, 
Hidden withni a secret nook, 
His eyes raised tenderly above, 
In sweetest accents told his love. 

And while he sang, behold ! there came 
Upon the rock a lambent flame 
Of clearest light ; and, as it thickened 
Towards the centre, his pulses quickened, 

For in the encircling wreaths of light, 
O joy ! he saw the vision bright 
Of Lore, listening, and beckoning him. 
Then his earthly sight grew dim. 

A mystic charm from that strange hour 
Drew his steps to the enchanted bower ; 
And oft he gazed in visions airy 
On the form of the lovely fairy. 

But earthly bliss must have an ending, 
To nightly spurs his steps were tending, 
The which to gain he must be sent 
To the imperial encampment. 



40 LORELEI. 

His heart grew sad at tlioiiglit of Lore, 
He would, he said, see her once more ; 
So with his squire he entered a boat. 
And to the enchantress did float. 

He softly sung his sud farewell. 
Slie round him was v»^eaving her spell. 
Wlien he finished the last sweet note, 
The waves rolled high above the boat. 

Bright on the rock the fairy stood, 
Waving her wand above the flood. 
Till nought on earth that boat could save; 
Count Herman sank beneath the wave. 

The fairy was seen by mortal no more ; 
13ut a voice she gave to that rockj' shore, 
And v.dieu the moon sheds her silvery light, 
A sweet song is heard in the stillness of night. 



TIME. 41 



TIME. 

It is a winter's night. The clear, cold moon 

O'er a snowy landscape sheds its briglit beams, 

Cov'ring the distant hills with sheeny mist, 

And, falling upon the smoother surface 

Of the frozen river, makes it appear 

Like a glittering stream of light flowing on 

Between its darker shores ; while the fierce winds, 

As through the naked branches of the trees 

They pass, sing a requiem wild and weird. 

A watcher by a casement sits gazing 

Upon the scene. Silence reigns within, save 

The sound of ancient timepiece as it marks 

The passing moments. 'Tis 'preaching the hour 

Of midnight ; the final hour of the year 

Passing silently but surely to join 

The manj' thousands are already gone 

To make up the history of the world. 

Is it Age, withered and bent, sitting alone, 

Recalling the sorrows of the past ? No ; 

It is Youth, ever bright, expectant Youth, 

Waiting to hear the bell's first joyous peal 

Ringing in the New Year, — the " New Year," fraught 

With happiness for the young, and to all 

Over which the star of hope brightly beams. 



42 TIME. 

Thou, O Time ! ever pictured old and gray, 
Holding within tlij hand a reaper's scjthe, 
Siiould not be so represented ; but yontli, 
Immortal youth, should crown thy massive brow, 
Thy majestic form in purple be clothed. 
Bearing the sceptre of eternal truth 
In thy right hand ; for thou ruleth the world 
As that monarch of the Alps, the mighty Blanc, 
Controlleth the rolling avalanche, as he 
First heraldeth the coming day, so thou 
Dost herald the coming of the new lieaven 
And new earth, wherein God only shall reign 
Supreme. 

xt is not true what maiiy sing 
Of thee, calling thee pitiless and fierce. 
More closely allied to grief than to joy ; 
For the expectations of many thou 
Hast crowned with their fulfilment in the past. 
Thou bidst the polar Winter flee away 
To his home in the north, wooing Spring, warm 
Spring, to resume again her floral sway. 
And, gently loosening with her soft touch 
The fetters of the frozen fountains, bid 
Tliem begin their murmuring melodies. 
Tliou calleth back the birds from their retreat 
To the sunny isles of the distant South, 
Replacing with their joyous return 
The bow of promise in the eastern sky ; 
While the springing grain with refreshing sliowers 



TIME. 43 

Thou wat'rest, and the plentiful harvest 
Is thy gift. 

Not alone in nature dost 
Thou manifest thy power ; for new worlds thou 
Revealeth, and new cities bnildeth. Thou 
Developeth in nations those things which aid 
Their growth, as well as those which deteriorate, 
Bringing the first to perfection, the latter 
To light, that they may be remedied. Thou 
Usherest in new eras. New empires 
Spring up more powerful than those before. 
New statesmen, warriors, monarchs, and immortal 
Geniuses do arise to claim the hour. 
The usurper is crushed beneath thy tread, 
And re-established is the rightful power. 
The shackles of slavery, too, thou hast 
Broken ; and no more shall the lash descend 
Upon the hapless victim's naked form, 
Or virtue's fair sweet name be outraged more. 
Revolutions are governed by thee. From 
Tlie smoke and carnage of the battle-field 
Thou bidst triumphant Liberty arise. 
Then over the mould'ring bones of the slain 
Fair Peace doth spread her rich mantle of green, 
And smiles on the happy homes that spring up 
Spontaneously. 'neath her gentle sway. 

Pass on, ever on, O Time! ush'ring in 
New joys, new aspirations, and new life, 



44 TIME. 

Uplifting men to the zenith of fame, 
And bearing the nations safely throngli wars, 
Famine, and pestilence ; blotting out 
Superstition, and establishing right 
Laws, and right interpretations thereof, 
So that the world may the sooner arise 
To the full fruition of its highest hopes. 

Thou bearest thousands to the grave, as well 

As ush'ring countless numbers into life. 

When from the present we look backward through 

The revolving ages of the past, what 

A throng our mental vision then beholds ! — 

The rich, the poor, the bond, the free, crowned 

kings, 
The mitred of old, — passing to the grave. 
What is tlie grave ? Is it merely a land 
Of dreams, where all is shadowy and dim, 
An end of our existence and of time ? 
No ; but instead it is the ])ortal where 
Both time and eternity become one. 



ROLL ON ! 4:6 



KOLL ON! 



Roll on, roll on, O mighty sea ! 

And beat thy prison bars ; 
Not all the power that wakes in thee 

When storms blot out the stars 
Can break the flinty walls which bind 
Thy crystal depths confined. 

Oh, it is well when we are near, 
Thy sad, sad strain to tell ; 

For oft the sympathizing tear 
We shed when 'neath thy spell 

We feel, like thee, that we are bound 

By earthly fetters round. 

Our souls, like thine, doth ever beat 
Against their prison walls ; 

And when, reclining at thy feet, 
Thy voice our spirit calls, 

We feel a sympathy as deep 

As where thy pearl-drops sleep. 



46 ASPIRATION. 



ASPIRATION. 

Thy aspirations, O soul immortal ! 
Are not of this world. Then why do the things 
Of time oppress thee ? Are not the joys of earth 
Transitory ? The heart's warmest affections, 
Do they not become estranged, leaving there 
A dismal void, wherein only lost hope 
Wanders, bearing within its bony hands 
Its own withered blooms ? 

Keep not thy gaze 
Forever riveted on the sealed lids 
And lips of ghastly death. Brood not o'er 
The inevitable ; but rise far above. 
Like that bird that soars to the highest peaks 
Of the mighty Andes, where, perched on some 
Jutting crag, it looks calmly down upon 
The raging elements below. So thou 
In a higher and purer atmosphere 
May live, and resting upon the summit, 
As it were, of high aspiration, canst 
Look calmly down on the tumult of life, 
Cherishing fond hopes sure of fruition. 



THE FOUNTAII^. 47 



THE FOUNTAIN. 

On distant Ionia's ancient isle, 

Where the phosphoric sea e'er beats the while, 

A murmuring melody soft and low 

With the languid wave's incoming flow ; 

Where the feathery palm rears high its head, 

And many sweet spices their aroma shed, — 

On the verge of a chasm dark as night 

Burst forth a cool fountain, limpid and bright, 

That, foaming and laughing, dashed o'er the rim 

Down into the shadows so dark and dim. 

On the other side of the chasm deep 
Stretch a vale and hills where the echoes sleep ; 
And the verdure of orange-groves and palm, 
With the dews of morning and evening's calm, 
Make it a spot where the gods might meet. 
It was Phoebus Apollos' own retreat. 

Here oft with his pipes and harp he came. 
Making music that would the wild beast tame ; 
And oft to the gushing fountain he sung 
Till the groves and hills with the echoes rung. 

Oh, sweet flowing fountain, so pure and bright. 
Thou art the home of some fairy sprite. 



48 THE FOUNTAIN. 

Fling back tliy veil of rainbow hue, 
Disclose thine eyes of limpid blue ; 
Thy form of grace, oh, let me see, 
Be wafted, gently wafted to me !" 

So, shyly at first, she dropj3ed lier veil, 
Letting it down into the chasm trail ; 
Then, dimpling and smiling, lifted her face, 
Disclosing her form's inimitable grace. 
Urged by his ardor, at length slie arose. 
Arrayed in gossamer mist tinted rose, 
When, lo ! from beneath a dark cloud uplifts, 
Gigantic in form, around her it drifts, 
Shutting out from her view the god of day, 
While in its dark folds she helplessly lay. 

]N"ow, Phosbus Apollo looked on with ire. 
Sending swift glances like tongues of fire, 
That pierced the dark cloud all through and through, 
With'ring it up till it vanished from view, 
When the trembling sprite, thus kindly released, 
Felt her sweet dimpled clicek suddenlj^ kissed. 
As, weeping and panting, at length she Lay 
In the arras of her lover, the god of day. 



THE MISSISSIPPI. 49 



THE MISSISSIPPI. 



Majestic river ! in thy onward course, 
Like that stream of m^-riad stars that flows 
Across the glitt'ring heavens, thou divid'st 
A continent in twain. For ages thou 
Wert lost to men. Thy virgin waters flowed 
Peacefully on between the shores of thy 
Fairy-like isles, gently lapping the base 
Of the o'crhanging rocks that stood like stern 
Sentinels guarding thee. 

None knew of all 
The grand impenetrable forests which 
Lined thy northern shores, stretching far beyond 
The horizon to meet the Rocky Range, 
And the interminable plains. 
Where the deer and buffalo roamed at will, 
And the wild horse reveled in its freedom. 
Then the red man was a stranger to thee ; 
And when lie first built his rude hut in thy 
Forest glades, and planted his miniature 
Fields of maize, and skimmed thy waters from shore 
To shore in his bark canoe, he did not 
Disturb the venerable solitude 
That reigned o'er all supreme. 

Now, proud river, 
Thy pristine beauty has fled. Thy trackless 



50 THE MISSISSIPPI. 

Forests of tow'ring pines, for centuries 

The home of ^olus, are felled, struck down 

By civilization's onward tread. 

Thy billowy plains by the ploughman's share 

Are rudely torn, while the scream of the leaping 

Engine, rushing on o'er its iron track, 

Has caused the deer and antelope to flee 

To the distant Sierra's fastnesses. 

Even the red man has dwindled and fled 

Affrighted ; and where he roamed free as air, 

The ever-aggressive white man has reared 

His home, and towns and cities line thy shores. 

Thou couldst not withstand the onward course 
Of Christian civilization ; for God 
Destined thy rich valleys to be the home 
Of his people ; and on thy once placid 
Waters, where the white swan and mallard dipt 
Their glossy heads beneath thy sparkling waves, 
Float the argosies of a mighty nation. 



SONNETS AND OTHER POEMS. 



I. 

SUGGESTED BY THE STATUE IN LINCOLN 
PARK, WASHINGTON, D. C. 

Gaze on tliy liberator, Afric's sons ! 

Look upon that kindly beaming face, 
See, through his veins the premonition runs! 

In his form its tremor one may trace. 
He feels the greatness of the act performed. 

'Twas so small a thing — the stroke of a pen 
Merely, though the cannons loudly stormed, 

And the scream of shell didst fill the air, when 
The deed was done. Still, above all he heard 

The clank of the myriad chains that fell ; 
The heart of the nation by it was stirred. 

And what if it should be his own death-knell 1 
To him 'twas not an unwelcome sound. 
'Tis a glory to be a martyr crowned. 



Si JEFFERSON. 

n. 

JEFFEKSOK 

(anniversary of his birth.) 

Jefferson, whose vigorous brain didst frame 

The Constitution of this proud land 
Of which it boasts ! Yes, Jefferson — the name 

That dost shine forth like a beacon -fire fanned 
Bj' the clear winds of heaven, which do freedom 
breathe — 

True freedom, shared by his compatriot's breast, 
Who together did to us this land bequeath, 

AVith its free institutions — a rich bequest. 
Prized by a democracy truly blest! 

Here the poor emigrant, seeking a home, 
Finds a safe retreat, and by honest toil 

Adds to his store. The lovers of free speech 
come. 
All good men are welcome to its rich soil ; 
Then crush the reptile who would its freedom spoil. 



TO . 55 



TO 

Tiiy sensitive spirit, attuned to love, 
Like some bright beings descended from above, 
Seemed lost, almost dismayed, in this strange world, 
"Where sin and death have their dark wings unfurled. 

Blind avarice, wars, and most fearful crimes. 

Thy tender spirit could not brook betimes. 

Thou wouldst Iiave changed this tangled world of 

onrs 
Into sweet Heaven's paradisiacal bowers. 



56 LORD BYRON. 



LORD BYRON IN THE ARMENIAN 
MONASTERY. 

It was tliy disposition to spend at times 

A month or more with Armenian friends. 
Was it merely to perpetrate rhymes 

Thou didst stay ? or was it to make amends 
For thy crooked ways, some twinge of conscience 

Sent thee here to do penance ? It may be 
For once thou wert compelled by self-defence 

To desist from thy wickedness, to flee 
From thy pursuer, — some outraged Persian 
Who held for thee too strong an aversion. 

However it may have been, 'tis a spot 

Delightful, surrounded by the cool sea, 
With Yenice in view. 'Twas a happy lot, 

A retreat most acceptable to thee. 
That thou must have enjoyed thyself while here. 

None doubt, among these monks from a distant 
clime, 
Moving about so dark and still, who appear 

Full of mysteries pertaining to the time 
When from friends and home they sailed away ; 

To spend 'mid strangers the remnant of life's day. 



THE ROMAN FORUM. 57 

m. 
THE ROMAN FORUM. 

And are these columns and tirae-eaten stones 

All that is left of thee, — the grand Forum ? 
Ah, yes ! but the voices heard do in clear tones 

Still ring through the empyrean. Then art not 
dumb. 
Thou dids't feel the warm gush of Cesser's blood, 

We hear thee speak, felt the tread of Nero, 
Of Anthony, Septimius' host, that stood 

In triumph, or, pas-ing to and fro, 
The softer step of women, a caress, 

As it were, then a long silence, and now. 
Awaked as from sleep, we feel not the impress 

Of the proud, who bent not his noble brow 
To look on us — only the thoughtful tread 
Of the stranger, as he lingers with bowed head. 



58 DEAR FRIEND OF MY YOUTH. 

IV. 

DEAR FRIEND OF MY YOUTH. 

Dear friend of my youth, oft 1 think of thee, 

Although by time we are sundered afar ; 

Yet through the hard, hard fate of years, I see 

Thee, by the door which has been left ajar, 

Surrounded still with thy sweet babes ; content, 

Betimes, witli charms of home and all it brings 

Of love tokens. Still to thee was oft lent 

The harp of song, and, when across its strings 

Thy hand didst sweep, 'twas an inspired lay ; 

And thy mild blue eyes would grow bright with 

hope 
When at some future time thou wouldst portray 
The thoughts that thronged upon thee, when full 

scope 
To thy powers could be indulged. Has it been, 
Dear Friend ? Didst thou the wreath of laurel win ? 



POESY AND NATURE. 59 



POESY AND NATUKE. 

Eiirth, new create, with rosy blush stepped forth, 
Robed in green and gold, and purple and blue. 
She was fair and beautiful. None knew her worth, 
Nor half her sweet charms, until there flew. 
From heaven down, a lovelj spirit new, 
With dew-besprinkled wings, and harp, who gazed 
Oq her long, enraptured, until he knew 
Her every grace. Then his voice seraphic raised. 
Sweeping the strings of gold, and all her beauty 
praised. 

Sweetly he sings of her at dawn of day. 
When, crown-like, o'er her floating, golden hair, 
A curling wreath of rosy mist doeth lay 
Lightly coiled and softly resting there ; 
Making her, if that might be, still more fair. 
Oft at evening-time he sings when he dips 
Ilis oar, and, floating out, he pauses where. 
Under the faintly beaming stars, she sips 
The dewy nectar twilight holds to her sweet lips. 

At night his voice is heard when wrapped within 
Her sapphire robes, and gently lulled to rest 
By balmy sleep ; when Luna sheds her thin 
Silvery rays that, halo-like, invest 



60 POESY AND NATURE, 

Her form, lingering fondly on her breast. 
His voice is heard wbcii the fierce storm unfurls 
Its dark streaming banners ; and she, hard pressed. 
Sways, weeps, and moans with dread, when it curls 
About her, and she feels the fiery darts it hurls. 

He sings of her in every changeful mood, 
When, spring-like, she bubbles over with song ; 
And later on, becoming more subdued. 
As the ripening wine of life becomes more strong 
Within her veins, he still his strains prolong. 
Until, in vestments of purple and gold. 
And russet-red and brown, she glides along 
Through winter's freezing blast and snowy cold 
To dance and smile again in springtime as of old. 

Thus Poesy and Nature have passed 

Down through the long dim ages hand in hand 

Both loving and beloved, until at last, 

By the will of all, now wedded they stand, 

Indissolubly jjined by Time's command. 

And ever through the misty halls of Time 

His strains shall swell more high, more sweet and 

grand, 
Reaching the distant verge of every clime, 
Filling with melody e'en heaven's high arch sublime. 



COLUMBIA, WEEPl 61 



COLUMBIA, WEEP ! 

Columbia, weep ! for one lies dead 

Who your country to glory led. 

Toll the bells, toll, toll ! 

Let them o'er vale and mountain toll, 

For he who was the nations strength 

In time of peril has at length 

Fallen. Not by a vile assassin's hand 

Whose anger was b}^ traitors fanned, 

Nor by a premature decay. 

Does his proud form now prostrate lay ; 

Bat, like the fully ripened grain. 

Must fall that he might live again. 

The broad, fair brow ; the beaming eye. 

That never quailed when death was nigh ; 

The firm lips, closed ; the beating heart, 

That ever took his country's part, — 

Like marble now lie cold and still. 

Let his requiem the nation thrill. 

Toll the bells, toll, toll ! 
Let them o'er vale and mountain toll. 
A statesman lies upon his bier. 
Was ever met with cheer on cheer. 
For he his country's rights upheld. 
Intrigue and insurrection quelled 



62 COLUMBIA, WEEP! 

When he was in the chair of state. 

He knew at what a fearful rate 

His country's freedom had been bought, 

What treasure to its shrine was brought. 

The sire with snow-crowned liead 

For his dear country freely bled ; 

And youth, just past its childhood years, 

Was rendered up with prayers and tears. 

The father, and the widow's all. 

Did for their country's welfare fall. 

O brave command, so stanch and true, 

Found nought too hard to dare or do, 

To save your country from dishonor, 

To cast the chain of slavery from her. 

A grateful nation, all should praise 

Your deeds of daring, and should raise 

Tow'ring monuments everywhere. 

That through all coming time shall bear 

Your honored names emblazoned high 

Beneath the country's tranquil sky. 

But he, the chiefcst of you all. 

Who lies beneath yon sable pall. 

Passing slowly, with measured tread, 

Mournful pageant, mournfully led. 

With mufiled drums and march for the dead. 

And veterans standing at the head — 

His memory can never die, 

Though 'neath the sod his form shall lie. 



COLUMBIA, WEEP! 63 

For deep within the inmost part 
Of every true American's heart, 
Beneath the name of Washington, 
Close beside the martjn-, Lincoln, 
Together with his deeds of fame. 
Shall be engraved Grant's honored name. 



THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST, AND 
OTHER POEMS. 



THE TEIUMPH OF CHRIST. 



Hell's gates together swung with awful clang. 

Through them had passed the monarch of the realm, 

Who from the world above, the abodes of men, 

With swiftest wings had flown; but quick as thought 

His robes of light were changed to scaly folds, 

That, serpent-like, cling sinuous about 

His towering form, — that form still bearing marks 

That might adorn a hierarch of high heaven, 

But where the brow serene should beam frown black 

Furrows of malice and hate. He stood 

On the swaying floor, through which, from the lake 

That burned beneath, broke flame and smoke, that 

filled 
The high arched vault with shapes fantastic, like 
To hideous monsters, writhing and wranglina; 
-In endless woe. Standing one moment there, 
A loathing look he cast around, and stamped 
Upon the quaking floor until all Hell 
Rung with the infernal knell. Then high his voice 
Pie raised in stern command, " Spirits, assemble ! 
Your welfare is at stake. Haste ! I command ! 
Your well-known stations take ! " He turned to- 
wards 
His ebon throne, where, on either side, two 



68 'iHE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST. 

Mighty monsters crouched. Earthquakes they were 

most 
Powerful, of sullen mien, who drew whole 
Cities into their embrace, thus peopling Hell, 
Enlarging its domain ; and seated there, 
A canopy beneath of serpents linked, 
With fiery eyes protruding, whose most 
Yenomous poison pollutes still more, 
If that might be, the hot and horrid air, 
Though tortured, yet in semblance calm he waits 
The gath'ring throng. 

As if by magic dire. 
From every part of that dread place they come, 
Pouring forth beings strange, of every shape 
And hue, with tangled hair and frenzied eyes, 
Led on by Death in cerements of tire. 
His sword a flame snatched from below ; iiis face 
Dark, with cavernous sockets, where gleam eyes 
Of unabated wrath and fell design, 
Above which blazed a hideous crown 
Of grinning skulls aflame. Onward they came, 
And over all most horrid creatures flew. 
With bat-like wings, and on the scragged walls 
Above perched, where, cormorant-like, they scream 
With hellish delight. When all at last stood 
Flanked on either side, circling round the throne. 
Tier beyond tier, Satan arose, and said : 

" I come from the world above, the abodes of men, 
From those beings so late by God create 



THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST. 69 

To people Paradise, but wliom wc did 

Persuade to people Hell. Although a curse 

God then pronounced, still we triumphed, nor lack 

I^ot couraj^e yet to cope with him, to thwart 

His plans, or turn them to our account, 

As we do now this new design of his 

To wrest from us the power we then did gain, 

By sending his Son to become a man, 

And like one to die, in order to break 

The bars of death, that those poor hell-doomed souls 

May, by simple faith in His divinity, 

Pass through the open doors, back to that heaven 

From whence they came ; while we are to be thrust 

Down into the depths, the bottomless pit, 

And chained. 

" Shall we like coward miscreants 
Submit ? By all the combined powers of Hell, no ! 
Let us forge new bolts and bars, of such strength 
That not God liimself shall break ; and His Son — 
Hoar ye? — His Son hold as hostnge for our 
Hedemption from this horrid place." Then cheer 
On cheer from tortured throats arose, and cries, 
" Mighty monarch, forge the bolts, forge the bolts !" 
All was tumult. Death raised his flaming sword 
On high, and in sepulchral tones he spoke : 

" Methinks I heard aright. Saidst thou not 
That man, of woman born, should enter here, 
And with his arm of flesh would break these bars 
That I have wrought, and then escape ? Fear not, 



70 THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST. 

I'll guard these gates like that great angel who 

Did guard the gates of Paradise ; but, lest 

There might be some weak point, we'll forge new 

bolts 
And bars, as thou hast said, and heat them — yes, 
Heat them — ten times hotter than e'er before 
In the undying flame." Then Satan, Death, 
And all those hideous beings, with screams 
Of wild infernal laughter, mingled with 
The roar of flame and earthquake's sudden shock, 
Descend in horrid mass to realms below. 

II. 

The first faint gleam of golden day broke through 
The shadows of the last dread night that Christ, 
The Son of God, did spend upon the earth. 
From that great city that killed the prophets, 
And stoned those sent unto it, — Jerusalem, — 
The shadows slowly lift, until the place 
Where the annointed one sits, scoffed and spit 
Upon, grows light ; and when the glorious orb, 
The eye of God, shoots forth its first bright ray, 
It falls npon the low-bowed head, a crown 
Of golden light, which spreads, illumining 
The place. Thus early the pitiless guard 
Haste to the chief priests Him to falsify. 
To accuse of sin, with the derisive throng 
To bear him, like a criminal, before 
Pilate's bar, to be sentenced to a death 
Ignominious, between two thieves, scourged 
And mocked, wearing a crown of piercing thorns. 



THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST. 71 

To Golgotha He ascends, where, nailed • 

On the cruel cross, he is lifted up, 

Drawing the world to him. Weighed down at length 

By suffering mid the prolonged darkness, IJe 

Lifts his voice, and cries once, na}-, twice, upon 

The living God, and yieldeth up the gliost. 

Then the temple's veil is rent, and the saints 

From their entombment do rise, and appear 

In that city unto the dwellers there. 

The earth doth quake, the rocks are rent in twain. 

Then those who far and near stood watching feared, 

And said, " Truly, this was the Son of God !" 



ni. 



Satan once more convenes the hosts of Hell ; 
Proclaims that Christ is crucified, and soon 
Will enter there. The assembled throng stand 
In solid phalanx, battle- armed. E'en those 
Huge monsters that crouch beside the ebon throne 
Assume a threat'ning attitude, and thrust 
With fierce defiance forth their powerful arms. 
Under the hissing canop}', venomous 
Satan sits enthroned, with powers concentrate 
On despairing hope, for too well he knows 
The doubtful issue of his infernal plot. 
As he in well-assumed defiance waits. 
His scaly robes emit strange lights intense, 
While scintillating rays shoot from his brows 
Liked forked lightnings from a threat'ning cloud. 



72 THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST. 

All eyes are turned towards the new barred gates, 

Where Death, a being most terrific, stands. 

His right arm, brandishing his sword of flame, 

Is raised on high, while 'neath liis crown of skulls 

A flame, his eyes, with expectation wild 

And deadly hate, j^rotrude. His left hand grasps 

A chain doubly linked and newly wrought, strong 

With fetters, which he — oh, most horrid thought — 

Both destine Ciirist, the Son of God, to wear. 

Tims arrayed they stand, wlien, like a meteor's 

Sudden flash, the gates of Death and Hell spring 

Open wide, and Christ the crucified 

Appears, with cherubim and seraphim, 

In clouds of light that circle far above. 

As heaven, where God on liis celestial throne 

In majesty arrayed, sits smiling down 

On His beloved Son. 

Satan, Death, and Hell 
Stand paralyzed, transfixed. All their boasted 
Power combined, and forged chain, and bolts and 

bars, 
Are nought, arrayed against his will supreme. 
The glittering lights and flashing flames 
That shone at first so fiercely bright before 
The radiance sublime that beamed from God's 
Transcendent countenance, were utter darkness. 
Silence in that dread abode for one short 
Moment reigned. The lake below ceased to burn, 
Christ moved not, till suddenly^ lifting his hands 



THE TRIUMPH OP CHRIST, 73 

On high, he spoke in tones that penetrate 

E'en through that terror-stricken throng, and said : 

" Down with thy chains into the gulf below ! 

Sink from our sight now and for evermore !" 

Then Satan, Death, and all that armed throng 

Of spirits fell with one most awful crash 

Into the open jaws of deepest Hell. 



74 THE ROCK. 



THE ROCK. 

I saw a flowing river, deep and wide, 

Break o'er the metalled rocks, a crystal tide 

Of sparkling geiiis 'mid snowy foam and mist 

That hnng a purple veil until 'twas kissed 

By sunlight soft and warm, which caused a glow 

Prismatic in its light, a belt, a bow 

Of rose and violet, encircling all 

The flashing, rushing, roaring waterfall. 

When far below it reached the emerald plain, 

'Twould still go on towards the distant main ; 

But in its course an adamantine rock 

Stood firmly 'gainst the flowing river's shock, — 

Unyielding, stood the rushing and the strain, 

Dividing the river into twain. 

Part, hkq a flow of silver in its gleam. 
Went murm'ring on a quiet, placid stream, 
, Till, gaining power and debth, at length upbore 
The wealth of nations, while on either shore 
Towns and cities smiled down upon its tide, 
And commerce and pleasure on its bosom glide. 
Thus onward rolled the stream to rest and sleep 
It found beneath the ocean fathoms deep. 



THE ROCK. 75 

ILilf the stream flowed o'er the emerald plain, 

Destroying in its course the floral reign 

Of opening bud and sweetly blooming flower, 

And springing plant beneath the falling shower, 

And, buried 'neath the turbid waters there, 

Filled the sweet and ever balmy air 

With miasmatic odors, scatt'ring round 

Disease and death, while the unwelcome sound 

Of the bittern's loud scream was ever heard 

In place of the free and happy bird. 

Thus to Cyprus gloom the sunny plain was turned, 

In whose shade the spectral meteor burned, 

To light the trail of crawling reptile there, 

Or wild beast that lurked in its hidden lair. 

Methought how strange so pure an element 

Could be to such dark deadly influence lent I 

E'en so far back the stream of life rolled on, 
CTntil it fell, and, plunging headlong down 
The precipice of sin, was torn by fear. 
Whose jagged rocks at first did not appear, 
Reaching below the icy plain of death, 
Where each expiring soul spent its last breath 
In prayers and tears that like a mist arose. 
Thick and damp, on which the sunlight throws 
A beam, — when bright the bow of promise bends 
O'er all the troubled stream, and kindly lends 
Its ray of hope and heaven, in Christ, the rock. 
Who firmly stood the o'erpowering tidal shock 



76 THE ROCK. 

Of sin and death combined. lie broke their bands, 
And in power supreme, triumphant, he stands, 
Awarding the wicked to their eternal fate, 
The righteous to live within the pearly gate. 



JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. 77 



JEPHTHAII'S DAUGHTER. 

" He comes ! Oh, he comes !" she cried, 

" In grand triumph from the war !" 
And lier young heart swelled with pride 

As his helmet like a star 
Blazed forth in the noontide sun. 

" Quickly, haste, my maidens all, 
And yourselves prepare to run 

" At his first loud bugle's call. 

" But, no ! Keep back a space, 

For I wish his eyes to rest 
First of all upon my face. 

When leaning upon his breast, 
Come thou then with song and dance, 

With timbrel and tambourine, 
That he may know at a glance 

How quickly his approach was seen." 

The noise of the rattling car, 

As on and on it speeds. 
The clattering hoofs of war, 

The neigh of the prancing steeds, 
The bugle's clarion sound. 

Drown not the agonized cry. 
As, speeding over the ground, 

Jephthah's daughter first greets his eye. 



78 JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. 

*'Alas! Ob, alas!" he cries, 

And rends his rich garments rare, 
As towards him she swiftly flies, 

Breathing forth a joyous prayer ; 
But at length she hears him sigh. 

Bewailing too late his vow. 
And knows at last she must die, 

And seeing how he is brought low. 

Oh, then she most sweetly said, 

" Do, my father, according 
To the vow which thou hast vowed 

Unto the Lord. Let this thing 
Be done for me. Let thou me 

Alone two months, that I may 
Bewail my virginity 

Upon the mountains far away." 



JESaS OF NAZARETH PASSETH BY. 79 



JESUS OF NAZARETH PASSETH BY. 

Near the city of Jericho, 

Just where the crowds pass to and fro, 

Beneath the hot sun's scorching glare, 

And by the dusty thoroughfare, 

A blind man sat upon the ground, 

His ear acute to every sound, 

When notos of praise he heard arise, ^ 

And, opening wide his sightless eyes. 

Asked, " Who is this that cometh nigh ?" 

"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." 

The beggar blind had often heard 
Of the healing power of Christ the Lord, 
And when those words fell on his ear. 
His glad heart leaped with joy to hear. 
As nearer came the moving crowd, 
He raised his voice, and cried aloud, 
" Son of David, have mercy on me !" 
(Oh, he thought, that I might see !) 
But those were standing nearest by 
Roughly rebuked his pleading cry. 

Still undaunted, for he longed to see. 
More loud he cried, " Have mercy on me !" 



80 JESUS OF NAZARETH PASSETH BY. 

The suppliant's voice the Saviour heard. 
By love and pity his heart was stirred. 
He bade them bring the man to him ; 
And when he came, Christ asked of him, 
"What wilt thou I shall do ?"— " Oh that I might," 
The poor man said, " receive my sight !" 
His sight the Saviour then restored, 
And his first look was on the Lord. 



IMMORTALITY. 81 



IMMORTALITY. 

When, by the invincible hand of death, 
Some loved form is torn from thy embrace, 
And laid within the cold and silent tomb, 
Dost fear and doubt assail thee ? If so, 
Do tliou make thyself familiar with 
The teachings of nature and nature's God, 
For in all her varied moods he speaketh. 

List to the murm'ring fountain's limpid song 

As it bubbles up from the flinty rocks. 

Sings it not like some sweet spirit imprisoned 

Long, released at length ? Or climb to some high 

Mountain-peak, and look eastward from its height. 

Shines not a ray of hope into thy soul 

From the beams of morning as it ariseth 

In dewy splendor, obliterating night, 

And ushering in the bright unclouded day ? 

Or seek old ocean's sandy beach, and gaze. 

Although it be with tear-bedimmed eyes. 

Across its wide, interminable waste 

Of waters. Canst thou, by gazing long, 

Behold one arched portal or tow'ring dome 

Of the bright and beautiful world beyond ? 

Still it is there ; and at some future time, 

Perhaps, thou the sculptured corridors .wilt 



82 IMMORTALITY. 

Tread of ancient Rome, or stand where tlie Cbrist- 
Cliild played beneath the olive-tree's deep shade. 

It may be with thy spirit evening best 

Accords. Like the plant that bloometh within 

Her starlit shade, thou canst open thy heart 

More fully, even as it doth open 

Its petals to receive the dew of her sweet 

Influences ; and when she sinks to rest 

In amber robes upon her purple couch 

Behind the misty hills, is there not then 

Borne to thee on the gentle wind that fans 

Thy fevered brow, a faint whisper, saying : 

" First cometh darkness, — sleep, — then light and 

life ?" 
The moon, with all her groups of glitt'ring stars ; 
Tlie planets, with their attendant orbs, — shine 
With borrowed light, — light caught from full -orbed 

day. 
Beaming upon other far-distant shores. 
The meteoi's that shoot athwart the heavens, 
At intervals, leaving trains of light behind, 
Disappear only to return again. 

Hast thou failed to perceive the truth? Art thou 

IStill unsatisfied ? If so, look upon 

The worm crawling at thy feet. It by blind 

Instinct immures itself to awake at last 

Into a better life ; and canst thou not, 

Thou, with thy boasted reason, know as well 

The fact of the soul's immortality, 



IMMORTALITY. 83 

And resign tranquilly thy friends in hope, 

And surrender thyself without fear 

To the inevitable embrace of death ? 

Thy destiny, O man ! is not confined 

To this earth alone, but extends beyond 

Its confines; and when worlds shall be destroyed 

And suns extinguished, thou shalt live on. 

Trail not, then, in the waters of dark despair 

Thy soul's fair robes ; nor follow the unwise 

Teachings of those would doom thee to the shades 

Of black oblivion ; nor spend the time 

Allotted to thee here in building up 

An earth-born fame ; nor the possession seek 

Of sordid wealth, which fetters the soul's free flight, 

Binding it to earth ; but let thy thought rest 

On God who formed thee, and who hath bestowed 

Somewhat of his infinite powers upon 

Thee, in thy far-reaching intellect. Give 

To him thy homage, fixing thy mind on thy 

Eternal possibility, go forth 

As at first, untrammelled, to enjoy 

The communion of God with man on earth, 

Preparing thyself for the great hereafter 

By filling thy page in the book of life 

With the record of good deeds performed, 

So thou wilt receive a welcome when thou 

Sluilt appear before his throne, and admittance 

To his supreme abode, therein to dwell. 



84 CAN WE, GREAT GOD? 



CAN WE, GEEAT GOD ? 

Can we, great God, thee comprehend 

Without the Spirit's aid ? 
We know thy mind, almighty Friend, 

The deep things therein laid ? 

These finite minds, incased within 

A form of moulded clay, 
Know of themselves, o'ercome by sin, 

The Infinite's deep way ? 

As well might we expect to be 

By babes full understood. 
As these our carnal minds should see 

All thy whole being's good. 

And thou didst look with pity, Lord, 

Upon our darkened sight. 
And gave to us thy precious Word, 

Full of the Spirit's light. 

And by its aid the deepest things 
Are brought within our view. 

And we can touch the hidden springs 
Of knowledge, pure and true. 



BEFORE THY THRONE. 85 



BEFOKE THY THEONE. 

Before tliy throne we bow the knee, 
Waiting, yes, waiting. Lord, for thee. 

Oh, let thy presence fill the place ! 
Shed the rich manna of thy grace ! 

Lift thou the broken spirit up, 

That he may drink the sacred cup, 

Filled from the glorious fountain-head 
Of life, such is the blood he shed ! 

Come, sinner, come this manna taste. 
This heavenly food. O sinner, haste! 

This bread of life God gave to you. 
'Twas meant for all, not for the few. 

By swift repentance, then, lay hold, 
And come v>'ithin Christ's sacred fold. 

To share the benefits now thine. 
And feast your souls on food divine. 



86 GOD'S POWER. 



GOD'S POWER 

"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not 
pass away." — St. Luke xxi. 33. 

Could words like these have ever sprung 

From less than heart divine ; 
From less than Him whose hand hath hung 

The stars in heaven that shine? 

They sound omnipotent in strength, 

Beyond what man can know. 
They speak a power that will at length 

Both heaven and earth o'erthrow. 

They have with all a warning tone 

It were awful to offend, 
That all our ways to God are known, 

And all on him depend. 

Florence, Italy, 1875. 



SAVIOUR, THOU REFUGE. 87 



SAVIOUR, THOU REFUGE. 

Saviour, thou refuge of my soul 
From sin's destroying tempest wild, 

When grief's dark billows near me roll, 
I seek thy presence, calm and mild. 

"When o'er my troubled heart is tlirown 
Thy peaceful sway, thy spirit's light. 

Thou speakest with sweet, assuring tone, 
" Fear not, for this is only night !" 

So, trusting thee, I still go on, 

Though dark and threatening be the sky. 
Thy powerful arm I lean upon : 

'Tis all I want when danger is nigh. 



88 WHEN THE SHADES OF EVE. 



WHEN THE SHADES OF EYE. 

When the shades of eve are falling 
O'er the earth, so broad and fair ; 

When the night birds are softly calling 
To the rest that all may share, 

May we ne'er forget to praise thee, 
Raise our hearts in grateful prayer ! 

Ever kind and loving Saviour, 
Leader of the weak and blind. 

Look on us with loving favor, 

Comfort each poor troubled mind ! 

Let us feel thy presence near us. 
Heart to heart in friendship bind ! 

When we reach death's flowing river, 
When its waters o'er us roll. 

Sinks this earthly part forever, 
Leaving free the ransomed soul, 

Bear it safely through heaven's portal. 
There to live while ages roll ! 



GETH8EMANE. 89 



GETHSEMANE. 

Amid Gethseinane's deep shade, 
Where Kedron's turbid waters strayed, 
Just wheu the day's last beam had flown, 
The Saviour wept and prayed alone, — 

Ay, wept and prayed in anguish deep, 
While those he loved were lost in sleep. 
In fearful agony profound. 
Until his blood fell o'er the ground. 

Alone, yet not alone, he prayed. 
For angels stood within the shade. 
Strengthening him, and lifting up 
His prostrate form to drink the cup. 

Thus, when we seek Gethsemane, 

And pour our tearful agony, 

Jesus is ever present there 

To soothe our woes, our sorrows share. 



90 WE KNOW. 



WE KNOW. 

We know, thou Almighty One ! 

Strict vengeance rests within thy hand ; 
And he who dares thy way to shun 

Can never in thy presence stand. 

We know that love which far exceeds 
In warmth and life the sun's pure ray 

Thou shedst on those who do thy deeds, 
Who homage to thy Son dost pay. 

We know that thou canst cause each one 
To walk unharmed through furnace heat, 

And human hearts, though lost, undone, 
Wilt make with joy, e'en rapture, beat. 



OUR HUNGRY SOULS. 91 



OUR HUNGRY SOULS. 

Oar hungry souls, O Father ! lead 
From barren fields to dewy mead, 
From earthly husks lead up to where 
The heavenly bounties they may share. 

Revive their sluggish powers, Lord, 
With truth's reanimating word. 
Until they lift their drooping wings. 
And soar away where Gabriel sings, — 

Away from life's depressing care, 
From sorrow's midnight of despair ; 
Away from torturing ills and pains. 
Away from all life's galling chains, — 

.To bathe in crystal streams above. 
To breathe an atmosphere of love. 
To gaze with unabating sight 
On heaven's celestial glories bright. 



92 AUTHOR OF FAITH. 



AUTHOR OF FAITH 

Author of faith, to thee I flj, 
And prostrate at thy altar lie, 
And pray that thou wilt mercy show, 
While tears of penitence now flow ! 

Oh, make this wavering faith of mine 
With strong and steady flame to shine, 
That I may see the narrow way, 
And in it walk from day to day ! 

Oh, let its beam illume the night. 
And put each sinful foe to flight ! 
Oh, let it light the deepest shade 
That sin and sorrow may have made ! 

Yes, we may live by faith alone, — 
Faith in the merits of thy Son, — 
Faith in the atonement which he made 
When all our woe on him was laid. 



WHAT CAN SEPARATE US? 93 



WHAT CAN SEPARATE US? 

What can separate us from thee ? 
Thy love that bore the agony ; 
Thy love, that, like the radiant sun, 
Shines on, though tide and torrents run 
Right o'er our path, and clouds combine 
To hide the rays that from thee shine ! 

Shall human forms thy face obscure, 
Lead us away from paths secure, 
Through wildest tangle, shadows dark. 
Where Thy pure ray seems but a spark. 
That gives no light by which to see, 
So far away it seems to be ? 

Shall wealth and honor come between 
To hide Thy radiance serene, 
To shut the door and close the blinds, 
To take possession of our minds, 
Raising there a flickering light. 
That soon expires in deepest night ? 

Ko, not unless we willing are 

Wilt thou remove faith's glorious star, 



91 WHAT CAN SEPARATE US? 

That views the realm eternal, bright,— 
Where Thy pure love is all the Hg'ht, 
Where seraphs walk in robes of white, 
Forever dwelling in thy sight. 



ALL PRAISE TO THEE I 95 



ALL PEAISE TO THEE. 

All praise to Thee, whose hand supreme 
Formed out of dust the being man! 

In thy own image formed Thou him. 

Thou breathed, and life's warm current ran. 

'Tvvas pure as flowed in angel's veins, 
]No taint, no guilt, was undefiled. 

Then never dreamed of torturing pains, 
Or passion's tempest fierce and wild. 

As child, was innocent and pure ; 

As child, was easily betrayed. 
To ruin Satan did allure, 

And doom of death was on him laid. 

God's pity infinite was stirred 

To save from death the being man, 

And notes of joy in heaven were heard 
When he divulged the mighty plan. 

His only Son would offer up! 

Must flow for vileness purest blood ! 
He came and drank the bitter cup. 

And freely shed the crimson flood. 



96 BLEST SAVIOUR. 



BLEST SAYIOUR 

Blest Saviour, Lord, thou knowest my heart, 

Every deeply hidden motive, 
All secret thoughts when first they part 

The earth, and struggle forth to live. 

Thou vie west each leaf as it unfolds, 

And thou canst name each tender stem ; 

Thou knowest the virtue each one holds, 
Which one to cherish or condemn. 

Oh, give me wisdom to discern 

The fruitful plant from noxious weed ! 

The worthless ones help me to spurn, 
Until my heart fi'om all be freed ! 



TRUTH. 97 



TRUTH. 

"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make 
you free."— St. John viii. 32. 

Bestow the attribute divine 

Of truth upon this heart of mine ; 

Then will raj life be true to Thee, 
And I shall be as Thou art, free ! 

!N"o slave to false inventions then, — 
Inventions formed bj minds of men, — 

Minds clouded o'er with carnal mist, 
Who do not love of self resist. 

Th}' truth dispels the clouds of earth ; 

It points us to our humble birth. 
Created, not creators, we, 

But formed of dust, and dust shall be. 

Oh, let Thy truth's deep waters flow, 
Cleanse every stream of life below. 

Until they're clear as crystal bright, 
Eeflecting thy own spirit's light. 

New York City, 18T1. 



FRIEND OF MY SOUL. 



FRIEND OF MY SOUL. 

Friend of mj soul ! How sweet the sound ! 
Friend of my soul, none have I found 
Like Thee, so faithful and so true. 
Oh would that all thy friendship knew ! 

So full of kind compassion, Thou ; 
So ready and so willing now 
To assist, e'en bear the greater part 
Of woes, would crush the human heart. 

What friend, like Thee, would suffer long 
Such cold neglect, such cruel wrong, 
And when rebuke with scorn we've met, 
What friend so oft forgive, forget ? 

Florence, Italy. 



THE BIBLE. 99 



THE BIBLE. 

We thank thee, Lord of life, 
For this Thy precious word. 

Thy love on every page is rife, 
And sinful man deplored. 

Ah ! who can tell Thy worth ? 

For in these pages dear 
"We find the new, the heavenly birth 

Portrayed in language clear. 

Take Thy pure light away 
From the benighted earth, 

Remove from us the heavenly ray 
And hope of heavenly birth. 

Oh, where should we then find 
This wretched, wicked race ? 

In sin's o'erpowering chains confined, 
In death's dark, cold embrace. 

Then let us bring our souls 
To this pure fountain-head, 

For love divine each clear drop holds, 
And power to save the.dead. 

Florence, Italy. 



100 GOD'S AID. 



GOD'S AID. 

The God who dwells in purity, 
Of light the source and head, 

Who governs all eternity, 
By whom life's streams are fed ; 

The one who formed the stars of heaven, 
And guides the radiant band ; 

The painter of the sky at even. 
Who holds sublimest hand, — 

On these offending worms did gaze 

With pity infinite ; 
And stoops the vilest ones to raise, 

Their soul's to benefit. 

Shall we such love as his reject, 

Or spurn his powerful aid, 
On death's destroying shore be wrecked, 

Eternally betrayed ? 



RULER SUPREMM, 101 



RULER SUPREME. 

Ruler, Lord supreme art thou 

Of unapproached skill. 
No power exists but that must bow 

At last unto thj will. 

Shall I, then, fear to walk this earth 
Wlien thou art by my side, — 

That power fear to which sin gave birth, 
When, Lord, thou art my guide ? 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



TEREA MATER. 

Weary of the beat and strife, the noonday glare, 

Along the dusty thoroughfare of life, 

Weary, a child of thine, I come again 

To thee, in thy deep solitude, for rest 

And comfort, O Earth ! whose cooling breath fans 

My fevered cheek ; whose odors fresh revive 

My fainting soul, as from thy gushing springs 

I quaff the life-giving nectar with joy. 

While on thy majestic beauty I gaze 

Unwearied ; thy snowy brow, veiled in clouds 

And violet eyes, and sweet wild-rose lips, 

Thy jewelled neck and swelling bosoms fair 

Are clust'ring lilies gemmed with sparkling dew ; 

Thy arms, two snowy fountains gleaming 'mid 

The green folds of thy leafy mantle ; while 

A loose belt, a scarf of rainbow hue, binds 

About thy graceful form thy flower- wrought robes. 

To be thy offspring, O beautiful Earth ! 

Is no mean lot ; and I reverence thee 

As the sure rewarder of honest toil. 

At whose table, most bountifully spread. 

We daily sup, by Health and Plenty served, 

Who lavishly dispense thy luscious fruits, 

Holding to our eager lips the rich wine 



106 TERRA MATER. 

Of life in crjstal goblets running o'er ; 
While into our empty coffers Wealth pours 
Coinage of silver and gold, using gems 
From thy casket to deck our robes and crowns. 

We, thy favored children, too often look 
With scorn upon our close relationship, 
Forgetting that thy God and ours did thee 
Select to be our earthly parent. Ought 
Not this to command honor and respect ? 
When hast thou failed to assist thy thankless 
Offspring when called upon for aid ? From what 
Do we build our spacious palaces, save 
From thy primeval forest oaks, and deep 
Quarries of granite and marble ? and where 
Do we obtain the artificial light 
And heat necessary to ns but from 
Thy beds of anthracite ? Do not as well 
Thy medicinal herbs heal all our wounds, 
And cure our diseases ? The husbandman 
Thou dost reward with fields of ripened grain, 
And the seeker for minerals with mines 
Of precious ore ; the sculptor, with mountains 
Of marble blanched to most perfect whiteness ; 
The artist, with colors from which on the gray 
Canvas he pictures thee as thou art, crowned 
In all thy varied loveliness. 

God hath 
Bestowed even more on us than on thee, — 



TERRA MATER. 107 

A mind, a soul, that perishetli not. 

Yet, knowing this, we fail to do his will. 

Thou performeth thy part, consistent Earth, 

Soulless and pulseless, e'en better than we ; 

And I desire to be thy pupil, thy 

Imitator, seeking thee at all times, 

Watching thy silent but constant effort 

While rearing the majestic forest oak, 

Or the delicate festooning of vines 

And moss which adorn thy battlement rocks, 

Wishing to cover o'er the unseemly 

With bright foliage, sweet buds and blossoms, 

Of the better thoughts, words, and deeds of life. 

Notwithstanding our close relationship. 

Many look with dread on the day, the hour. 

When God shall bid us to return again 

To thee, e'en calling thee cheerless and cold. 

And the pressure of thy embrace heavy. 

Methinks it cannot be, but rather 'twill 

Be pleasant to fulfil his will divine. 

And, with our weary heads pillowed at length 

On th}'' cool mossy breast, peacefully rest 

(Jntif the trumpet of God shall awake 

All thy sleeping myriads, to ascend 

Into life everlasting, or to pass 

Unto death eternal, and to witness 

Thy final doom. 

Who can say thou shalt not 
From thy all-purifying flames arise 



108 TERRA MATER. 

Into a higlier and more glorious 
Existence, where no more the blasting breath 
Of winter shall chill thy laughing fountains 
To silence, nor the scorching sun wither 
Thy sweet summer bloom, nor scourging tempest, 
Nor earthquake's shock thy beauty destroy, 
Or thy quivering frame rend in twain, 
But verdure of celestial growth shall bloom 
Where at present the barren desert reigns, 
And, basking in the smiles of Him who first 
Formed thee, thy fields Elysian shall become 
The dwelling-place of angels and of God. 

Princeton, III.., 1878. 



A CHERISHED MEMORY. 109 



A CHERISHED MEMORY. 

I hold a clierislicd memory of a plaeo 

Secluded, and close nestled on tlie shore 

Of placid waters, wherein it might trace, 

Like forest nvmpth, its beauty. There the roar 

Of ocean never comes ; the lazj' oar 

Only of the swart fisherman awakes 

TJie sleeping ripples which sink, as before, 

To the crj^stal quiet of inland lakes 

When he lifts liis oar, and his silent station takes. 

As I wandered slowly about, I felt 
A sense of rest creep over my soul. No sound 
Of rattling car jarred on my ear. All dwelt. 
Or seemed to dwell, in peace. I gnzed around 
To see what spirit ruled the place, and found 
It was the home of him who understood 
Sweet nature's spirit best, whose soul was bound 
To hers, enjoying every changeful niood. 
By sea or lake, or in the somber wood. 



110 THE LISTENING ANGEL. 



THE LISTENING ANGEL. 

An angel liovered all one day 

Close by a wretched cottage door, 

"Would raise his wings to soar away, 

Then gently fold them down once more, 

And wait and listen anxiously 

To some sweet sound it seemed to hear ; 

Would raise its eyes devotedly, 

And clasp its hands, and drop a tear. 
Then smile again, still ling'ring near. 

What was it held the angel there, 
And his pure heart so deeply stirred ? 

A poor old woman in a chair 

Sat reading from the sacred Word. 

Left all alone, with none to care, 
Reading on from page to page. 

Would pause, and raise her heart in prayer. 
And, though her voice trembled with age, 
Would in a sacred song engage. 

Poor and needy and sick was she. 

Living alone in wretchedness. 
Depending on man's charity. 

Though hungry oft, she still liad this, 



THE LISTENING ANGEL. Ill 

On which her heart was fully stayed, — 
God's holy book, she loved so dear ; 

And when she read and sang and prayed, 
The angel often paused to hear. 
She did not know he was so near. 



112 DRIFTING. 



DRIFTING. 

I saw a sweet rose drifting gently along 

On a silver streuin to a thrush's song. 

I watched it glide through the sunlight and shade, 

Buoyant and bright. Not a ripple it made. 

'Twas so like youth floating rosily by 

On the stream of life 'neath hope's azure sky, 

That I thought of another Rose as fair, 

Was pure and as sweet, that once did share 

With me youth's halcyon days, filled with love, 

Who was long ago wafted to realms above. 

I saw upon a dark and murky stream 

A seared and withered leaflet gleam, 

Floating in silence, for the birds had fled 

To a sunnier clime. Onward it sped 

'Mid the gathering gloom and fitful blast 

Of the storms of winter approaching fast. 

It was so like life, I thought, e*en like me. 

Drifting away to eternity's sea 

On the dark stream of time, the loved ones dead, 

Gone in their youth, like the sununer birds fl^cd. 



THE FARMER. 113 



THE FAKMER. 

The sturdy farmer awakes at morn 
His laggard boys with a blast from the horn, 
That aroused them from their late morniog nap 
Like a loud Olympian thunder-clap. 

He looked on life as the time to achieve, 
And so he taught his two sons to believe 
That practical knowledge is better far 
In the battle of life as well as in war. 

" To the ploughs, to the ploughs ! ISTo lagging now !" 
Ob, well do they know the frown on his brow ; 
" For," he cried, " the sun is already up, 
Has drunk the fresh dew from the flower-cup." 

The boys turn them out, passing down the stair. 
Both carelessly smoothing their rumpled hair. 
Straight to the trough by the well do they go, 
No daintier bath did they ever know. 

One lowered the bucket deftly adown 

The mossy well, then raised it dripping and 

brown, 
Where, perched on the curb, each one took a quaff ; 
Then pouring its contents into the trough. 



114 THE FARMER. 

Tliey lave tlieir ruddy brows, their hands, their feet, 
Breathing the perfume of morning so sweet, 
When, the curling locks of youth flinging back, 
Seek quickly the kitchen towel-rack. 

The mother looks up with pride iu her eye 
As their brave young forms pass hastily by 
With a nod and smile and innocent jest, 
Called forth by a wish her love to test; 

But before their frugal meal they partook, 
TJie farmer would read from the Holy Book; 
And kneeling upon the white sanded floor, 
The sun streaming in through the open door, 

With his faithful wife's hand within his own. 
Ho thanked the good Lord foi' rich blessings 

shown, 
And praj'od in his bluff but honest way 
That he would kindly keep them through the day, 

And teach them while ploughing and sowing the 

seed, 
Not to forget that their own hearts might need 
A simihir breaking of fallow ground, 
That seeds of truth might spring up and abound. 

Just as soon as their simple meal was done. 
To the barn proceeded father and son ; 
While they bid tlie youngest one of the tliree 
Bring the water-jug from under the tree. 



THE FARMER. 115 

Then each vaulted upon liis steed's broad back ; 
And with the loose harness' clatter and clack, 
Wearing wide-brimnQed hats their brows to shield 
From the sun's hot rays, they start afield. 

Out through the broad gate, left standing ajar, 
And over the hill-top swept from afar 
By the south-blowing breeze, that brings ao:ain 
Blossoms of spring and the wood birds sweet strain. 



116 BESSIE IRONING. 



BESSIE IRONING. 

Who is liappy the livelong day, 
Happy as a bird in May ? 
Bessie ironing. 
Deftly smoothing the wrinkles out, 
Turning the iron in and out 
Of iluffy ruffles and embroidered bands,- 
Embroidered by her own fair hands, — 
Hands that never learned to shirk ; 
Busy hands, not ashamed to work. 

Who, think you, stole my heart away 
As I gazed from over the way ? 

Bessie ironing. 
How came it about ? Who can tell? 
But, oil, the fact I know full well. 
Perhaps it was her jaunty air, 
Or the shining waves of her golden hair, 
The curve of her neck, the shape of her arm, 
For all of these possess a charm. 

Whose voice peals forth like silver bells. 
And to none but me a secret tells? 

Bessie's ironing. 
The melody floats o'er the way ; 
It tells of a time, not far away, 



BESSIE IRONING. 117 

When 'neath the bridal wreath and veil, 
If fortune's favor does not fail, 
A true and lovinpj heart shall be 
Of its own free will given to me. 



118 MARCH. 



MAKCH. 

March, wild March, with her wind-blown locks, 

Goes scurrying across the plain, 
Through the deep woods and on the rough rocks, 

And now in the sunshine, now in the rain, 
The warmth of sweet Spring just felt in her breath, 

Then as cold again as the frosts of death. 

What is thy mission, an unkind one ? 

Art only Nature's wayward child ? 
Oh no ! for thee there is work to be done, 

Although so changeable, wilful, and wild. 
Thou art sent to prepare for coming Spring, 

Who, now with her bird-troop is on the wing. 

'Tis thine the dormant trees to awake. 

Shaking their sturdy branches grim 
Until the hard oaks to their centres quake, 

Oft severing them even limb from limb. 
Until o'er the ground in fragments they lay, 

Thus pruning the forests, arresting decay. 



MARCH. 119 

'Tis thine the snow- clouds to sweep from the sky, 

To paint the sunset with rosier hue, 
To awake the dormouse and crickets that lie 

Under moss and leaves hidden from view j 
To dry the soil, that the farmer again 

May sow the fresh seed, and reap the ripe grain. 



120 EVENING. 



EVENING. 

After the turmoil and heat of the day, 

Comes cahnly then the evening's sweet repose, — 

Comes just as the sun's last lingering ray 
Takes on the soft hue of the blushing rose. 

The whippoorwill sings, now near and then far ; 

The mist}' hills send back his silver note ; 
While softly above beams the evening star, 

And the young moon seems on the lake to float. 

The damp sedge is vocal with cricket and frog. 
The swerve of the night-hawk stirs the bulmy 
air. 

The bat leaves its home in the hollow log. 
The firefly gleams in the thicket there. 

The whispering winds stir the rustling leaves, 
Wafting the perfume of eglantine sweet ; 

The swallows nestle beneath the shelt'ring eaves, 
And rustic lovers in the shadows meet. 

The bleating of the sheep, the chore boy's song. 
The home returning kine's familiar low, 

The sturdy farmhand's call, so loud and long, 
Float up fiom the misty vale below. 



EVENING. 121 

A liglit gleams forth from yonder cottage door. 
Struck while they partake of their frugal meal. 

On such honest labor its blessings pour, 
And health and happiness have set their seal. 



122 VIOLETS LOVELY. 



YIOLETS LOVELY. 

Yiolets, violets, lovely and fair, 

Flinging thy perfume out on the air, 

Lovelier far, in thy purity here, 

Art thou than exotics, that few hearts cheer. 

Thou'rt free as the air that sweeps o'er the liill, 
As the birds that near thee their matins trill ; 

And the maid that wanders so free and fair 
May cull thy beauty to deck her hair. 



THE STORM. 123 



THE STOEM. 

The storm, the storm ! See bow it flies, 
Like an armed host, along the skies ! 

The thunder of its rushing wheels 
Like distant cannon loudly peals. 

Its outspread banners, dark and dank. 
Mount Agassiz's tall summit flank. 

And, rushing on across the plain. 
Drenches the earth with pelting rain. 

At length, against yon distant range, 
It madly rushes, and doth change 

Their aspect from cerulean blue 
To darker shade, more sombre hue. 

There at last it doth appear 
To have met a barrier severe ; 

For, piling up against the sky. 

With power concentrate it doth try 

To break their rugged granite walls, 
For bolt on bolt against them falls. 

Sent from the artillery of heaven. 
And with wildest fury driven. 



124 THE STORM. 

Failing in its desperate feat, 
Doth most reluctantly retreat ; 

But, as it onward muttering goes, 
A lurid glance it backward throws. 

White Mountains, If. K, July, 1889. 



VIOLETS. 125 



VIOLETS. 

Violets blue, only you and I know 

The fond words he spoke in accents low, 

'Mid the perfume sweet of the budding spring, 

And the flood of song that the wild birds bring ; 

For in your blue eyes I did gaze the while, 

To hide from his face the happy smile 

Would come to ray own. Alas ! 'twas for nought. 

He raised it to find there just what he thought. 

Only you and I know, sweet innocent flower, 
How his lips pressed mine in that happy hour. 
'Twas a rapture of love too perfect to last, 
For — hush, weary heart ! — it has long since past. 
Yet often as spring brings you back again, 
I gather you up ; and then — oh, what then ? — 
I gaze in your eyes, and wish he had been true 
As you to return, sweet violets blue ! 



126 NOT YET. 



NOT YET. 

This cloudy sky, this threatening storm, will pass, 

Then I can sport upon the sparkling grass, 

And gather flowrets thickly blooming there, 

And revel with the birdlings in the air, 

And chase in fancy the sweet perfumes that rise 

To their high garner in the azure skies. 

Not yet this ecstacy of life ; at last 

It shall be when the threat'ning storm has past. 

When the wayward one returns, oh, there'll be 
In our sorrowing home such joy for me ! 
The shadow will be gone that dims its light ; 
The world within, without, shall then be bright, 
When the long lost son, the wayward one, returns. 
And on the darkling hearth the firelight burns. 
Not yet, not yet, this happiness shall be, 
No, not yet ; it is kept in store for me. 

When the summer time has gone, oh, there'll be 
Such a rapture of love and joy for me ! 
Tlie veil and wreath, the altar flower decked. 
White robes, white earth, with snowy crystals flecked ; 



NOT YET. 127 

Then the bright, bright eyes, like glowing stars 

above, 
Will gaze on mine in an ecstacy of love. 
'Not yet ! I must wait till summer has flown, 
Till winter rules the world on his crvstal throne. 



1S8 THE MISER. 



THE MISER. 

A grim miser sat counting his gold, 

While the fierce winds shook the casement old, 

And over the pallet of straw below, 

Through seams in the roof sifted the snow. 

His two bloodless hands, stiff with the cold, 

Protruded from out his garments old 

Like talons ; and o'er his shoulders bare 

Fell in tangles his long, unkept hair. 

In their hollow sockets gleamed his eyes, 

When he, glancing up in wild surprise, 

Saw a shivering form by his side. 

" How came you here, vile beggar ?" he cried. 

Clutching his gold with a firmer grasp. 

" How came you here ?" With a shivering gasp 

The beggar replied, " I'm freezing ! Give, 

Oh, give me of your gold !" — " Ha ! I live !"' 

Said the miser. "Think you you'll die ? Nay, 

Wretch ! I've lived through many a colder day." 

"I'm freezing, dying; give, I pray!" — "Ko! 

'Tis all I have ; shall I let it go ? 

My all, my all !" the miser cried. " Begone !" 

He raised his hand ; lo ! he stood alone. 

"Ho, ho!" he laughs, and heavily falls. 

While a fiercer blast shakes the walls. 



THE MISER. 129 

A chill, as of death, curdles his blood. 

As with hollow cough he raised his head, 

To find another with sunken cheeks 

And hungry eyes, whose bony hand seeks 

For the gold as he cries, "I will have bread! 

I'm starving, give of your gold ?'' it said. 

" Loose thy hold !" the old miser cried. "Cease, 

Yile thief ! I'll clutch thy throat — release 

Thy " — A wild shriek pierced the frosty air. 

The miser, with fixed and stony glare, 

Fell dead against the creaking door 

As his hoarded gold rolled o'er the floor. 



130 SWEET, SWEET 1 



SWEET, SWEET ! 

" Sweet, sweet ! hearest thou me ?" 
Came from the hedge just over the way ; 

And " Sweetest, sweet ! I hear thee !" 
Came loud and clear from a willow spray 

That danced and waved with the fluttering 
Of a tiny bird's light wing. 

" Sweet, sweet ! hearest thou rae ?" 

1 heard through all that long summer day ; 

And " Sweetest, sweet ! I hear thee!" 
Came in answer, now near, now far away. 

So two hearts I know at every beat 
Call and answer in words more sweet. 



INGIiATITUDE. 131 



INGRATITUDE. 

Oh vile, vile ingratitude ! 

Where is the friend that stood by thee 
When want and sickness held thee subdued ? 

Where in thy prosperity, now, is he ? 

Seest thou not his need, his sorrow ? 

Canst thou resist those pleading eyes ? 
That hand from which thou once didst borrow. 

In thy necessity, all thy supplies? 

Turnest thou thy face away from him. 

Thy step turning to join his foe ? 
Oh, seest thou not how his eyes grow dim 

With tears, bitter tears, who once loved thee so? 

Boast not of thy illustrious kin, 

Though thou canst name among thy friends 
Even great raonarchs, still all the sin 

Remains ; nought thy vile character defends. 



132 LONGFELLOW. 



LONGFELLOW. 

Thy psalm of life, O brave heart ! thou hast sung. 

From continent to continent it rung. 
Never a strain of sad discouragement 

A discord to its pure harmony lent. 
Sweet from the first to the last was its strain ; 

The future will re-echo it again and again. 



SUDDEN DEATH. 133 



SUDDEN DEATH. 

What strange myst'ry enfolds thee now, 
Throws this pallor o'er thy brow ? 

Where are the roses from thy cheek ? 
Ope thy lips, that they may speak ! 

Thy hands look rigid folded so ; 

Let them wander to and fro ; 
Yes, reaching, reaching out until 

Two hands stronger they do fill. 

Those eyelids lovely deign to raise ! 

Oh, lift them, that I may gaze 
Beneath in their blue depths afar, 

Where shines for me love's star ! 

Tiiou dost not hear me when I speak ! 

Hast o'er thine ears cast this freak ? 
Oh, break the spell, it grieves me so ! 

You lie so quiet, ah, no ! 

It cannot, cannot be that word ! 

I'll kiss those sweet lips. My God ! 
They're icy cold ! No pulse, no breath ! 

It must be relentless death. 



134 SUDDEN DEATH. 

Father in heaven, if it must be so, 
Her form no more I may Icnow, 

And if according to thy will, 
Let her spirit guide me still ! 

Guide me up to heaven and to thee, 
"Where her angel form I'll see, 

Forever bathed in heaven's pure 1 iglit, 
Clad in spotless robes of white ! 



THE LOITERER. 135 



TEE LOITEREH. 

To wander and wander over the hills, 
Up this path and that, where'er the mind wills, 
Now pausing here, and now loitering there, 
Exclaiming, admiring the landscape fair ! 
The hill-tops in shadow from clouds that sleep 
In the blue sky above, so vast and deep. 
The base of one gleaming in sunlight bright. 
Where nestles a village that gladdens the sight, 
With a road that winds to the clattering mill, 
Which seems from this height to be silent and still. 

As we wander on, the air doth yield 

A sweet perfume, while yonder a field 

Of blue grass and daisies nod to the breeze. 

Laden with down from the cottonwood-trees. 

While the cricket and lark sing their pretty tunes 

To the buds a-bursting. 'Tis a freak of June's 

To beautify thus every field and hedge, 

Every roadside and every projecting ledge. 

With some sweet token of Flora's reign, 

Be it flowering moss or a daisy-chain. 

Arriving at length where one can view 
The valley the Hoosac meanders through, 



136 THE LOITERER. 

We note a dark cloud just touching the side 
Of what seems a black mountain, so soon did glide 
This storm-cloud across the sunlight so bright. 
(3n moved the storm, till it hid from our sight 
The village and mill ; but where we stood 
The sun shone forth in a glorious flood. 
The birds were singing, with no thought of rain, 
And the breeze scarce dimpled yon field of grain. 
The lambs skipped and played on the green hillside 
The child with the ploughman finished its ride ; 
On with her churning went the farmer's maid 
Out under the wide-spreading apple-tree's shade. 
Still beyond the storm raged, the lightning flashed. 
The trees one could see by the flerce wind lashed, 
While the rain descended, drenching the plain. 
(Still near us the sweet bird sang its refrain.) 
The storm-cloud sped on towards old Greylock, 
And seemed to pause on its summit of rock, 
Where from out the cloud there suddenly shone 
A rainbow that arched his brow alone. 



MUSIC. 



337 



MUSIC. 

Mj soul within grows sick and faint 

Without th J vital air ; 
Thoii aidst its upper, higher flight 

The richer jojs to share. 

Satan assumes thy angel robes 

At times to allure astrav, 
Defiles their snowy purity 

With stains of earth's vile clay. 

But thy true spirit is to aid 

The heart to nobler deeds, 
Cheering its failing strength until 

It finally succeeds. 

Thus thy mission ever is 

To uphold, to elevate, 
To assist the earth-bound, struggling soul 

To attain the higher state. 

Where tliy full swelling strains shall risu 

In sweetest melody, 
Filling heaven's vaulted arch above 

With throbbing harmony. 



138 OH, THAT RARE OCTOBER DAY I 



OH, THAT RARE OCTOBER DAY ! 

Oh, that rare October day 

When my trne-Jove went away, 

Midst showers of gold from the maple-trees. 

Rained thickly down by the wanton breeze, — 

Over his head and at his feet 

An offering for him most meet, — 

Wlien he turned with manly grace 

As if he would once moi'e embrace 

Me, oh, so fondly, where 1 stood. 

In the edge of the golden wood. 

With a sumac wreath crowning my liead 

The Inie of my rosy cheeks, he said. 

There has been none like it, no, not one, 

Though many a day I've passed alone 

In the same spot ; but it lacked the grace 

Of his manly form and radiant face. 

Though the bright, bright leaves from maple-trees 

Rained thickly down by the wanton breeze 

Fell over the grass in showers of gold, 

They only the same sweet story told. 

I felt but the chill in the frosty air. 

Saw but the sun's cold shimmering glare 

Througli rising tears, as I turned away 

In weary longing for that fair day. 



NINETY YEARS. 139 



NINEI Y YEARS. 

I sat one mild autumual day, 

A shade of sadness on my soul, — 

No sound disturbed the quiet air 

Save the falling leaf or twitter sweet 

Of some bright bird lingering still 

Around the old home nest, like one 

Who fears to try the stranger world, — 

When the sound of tolling bell smote 

On my ears. I listened to its 

Solemn tone, numbering the strokes, 

Till the sum of ninety was told. 

Ninety years ! Oh, what a vision 

They present ! — a trembling form 

Bending beneath their weight ; hair white 

As winter snows ; eyes dim ; a face 

Withered and marked with lines of care 

And grief, of patient suffering 

And hope deferred, pride, and passion. 

Ninety years ! All have left their trace. 

And yet what vigor once was his ! 

What high ambition fired his soul ! 

How the first sweet dream of love thrilled 

His brave young heart ! Once that aged form 



140 NINETY YEARS. 

Was held a chubby babe witliin 

Its mother's arms, her constant care. 

Snch is the life of man, — first growth, 

Then decline, and last decav. 

[Ninety years ! Ninety years well spent, 

Who could bear the sheaves ! Ninety years 

Illy spent, who could count the loss ! 



JOHNNIE BROWN. 14] 



JOHNNIE BROWN. 

It was, " Johnnie, fill the pail 1" 

At the barn, when like a wail 

Came from the house, " Johnnie-e, come he-e-ro !" 

And, before he could turn, a box on the ear 

Would remind him what he first had to do. 

So it ran the whole day through. 

Surely, it was rather bad 

For fortune to treat the lad 

So unmistakably ill 

As to expect him to fill 

Two sep'rate places at once, 

Whom every one called a worthless dunce. 

Johnnie Brown was his name. 

He was nine years old when he came 

To live on the farm. A sturdy boy was he, 

With his pants rolled up to the knee, 

And his blue checkered shirt 

Begrimed and faded with dirt. 

One ragged sleeve at the wrist. 

Turned up with a careless twist. 

His hat-brim flapping up and down. 

He trudged towards the nearest town 

As fast as his two brown legs 

Could take him and his basket of eggs. 



142 JOHNNIE BROWN. 

" Johnnie !" cried out Mrs. B., 

" Don't forget the starch and tea !" 

" No, ma'm !" all too loudly bawled he. 

" And be sure not to forget to call and see 

How the deacon's baby is !" she cried. 

The deacon's baby had died, 

Johnnie well knew, within 

The week. " Yes, ma'm !" with a grin 

(A comical boy in his way). 

" Johnnie !" she began to say, 

But Johnnie was out of sight. 

Whistling with tantalizing delight. 

His short step was firm and true. 
He seemingly tried to do 
His duty. He stopped not by the w:iy, 
Although the birds sang sweet and gay. 
And he paused not even to look, 
As he passed over the brook. 
At the poor minnows that swam 
So swiftly adown the stream. 
And he knew that a deep pool 
Among the soft shadows cool, 
Where he often came to play, 
Could be found not so very far away. 

For all of his careless look. 
It was strange he loved a book, 
And, 'neath his jack-knife and chalk, 
Jingling loudly as he did walk, 



JOHNNIE BROWN. 143 

He carried change, in order to buy — 
What? A slice of apple-pie? 
Ah, no ! but something to read, — 
A book. Thougli tired indeed 
At nightfall, still he at last 
A very short hour oft passed 
Reading as he was able. 
Leaning upon the kitchen table. 

Though he seemed to like to work, 

I'm sorry he sometimes did shirk. 

The barn he would hide behind, 

'Twas clear he could be both deaf and blind 

At times. Xow and then he would run away 

For nearly one-half a day ; 

But his master's brow would clear 

When he came driving home the steer 

Which had strayed, or the black colt ; 

Would call him a " shiftless dolt ;" 

Command him to eat his dinner. 

Muttering the while " Oh, you sinner !" 

Some may not believe it is true 

This much-neglected boy grew 

To be an upright citizen, 

Well thought of in his town. So all great men 

Were once careless boys and full of play. 

Many, I am sorry to say. 

Did run away from the school 

To swim in the brook or pool, 



144 JOHNNIE BROWN. 

To hunt the oriole's nest, 
Under the willows to rest, 
Sailing a miniature boat, 
Barefoot, hatless, and without a coat. 

The farmer and Johnnie meet 

Now and then upon the street. 

The former, looking up and then down, 

Says awkwardly, " How do you do, Mr. Brown ?'* 

But Johnnie bravely extends his hand. 

And sometimes an hour they stand 

Ciiatting freely together. 

Referring at length to the weather. 

Scanning the sky, they turn away, — 

One to look after his hay, 

The other to think how strange 

That a few short years should work such a change. 



WHILE WALKING ON THE SHORE. 145 



WHILE WALKING ON THE SHOEE. 

While walking on the shore in distant lands, 
A weeping babe I found upon the sands. 
Strange, was it not ? It was laid there to die alone 
That its pure life for others' sins might atone. 

I heard a painful bleating by my side, 
And, turning, a mother-sheep I there espied, 
Eunning, and gazing wildly up towards the sky. 
Where an eagle with its lambkin was soaring high. 

A lion I beheld in a serpent's coil ; 
Not all his strength the serpent's power could spoil. 
With ever-increasing pressure he held him fast 
Until the lion's carcass was all he held at last 



146 STRANGE, BUT TRUE 



STRANGE, BUT TRUE. 

It is strange, but, oh, too true, 
That many lend themselves to do 
Satan's meanest, vilest work, 
"Who love within his haunts to lurk, — 

Those haunts of vice and wretchedness, 
Filled full of beings in distress. 
Where Death and Hell serve at their feasts. 
And immortal souls sink down to beasts. 

There are many stepping-stones to this 
Enjoyment of satanic bliss. 
None drop direct from purity 
To till such awful destiny. 

No ! God and angels fight to save 
A soul from filling such a grave. 
It is their own free will, their choice, 
They close their ears to every voice 

That calls and pleads to choose the right, 
That holds all heaven to their sight. 
The pangs throughout eternity, 
The Saviour's dying agony. 



STRANGE, BUT TRUE. 147 

^Notwithstanding it is their will, 
The Saviour's voice is calling still. 
Still may they turn from wretchedness, 
And walk the paths of pleasantness ; 
Still plunge beneath the cleansing flood, 
And gain a dwelling-place with God. 



148 NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPS. 



NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPS. 

Weep not that time th}' sire laid low, 
And coldness placed upon his brow, 
Folded his tired limbs in rest 
That bravely bore a long life's test. 
Though faith's reward his soul now reaps, 
Tiiy sire is not dead, but sleeps. 

What if the warrior has sheathed his sword, 
His life-blood for his country poured ? 
Foi'cver stilled the clarion voice 
That cried, " Victory or death's my choice!" 
The grave his form now closely keeps. 
The warrior is not dead, but sleeps. 



RAINDROPS. 149 



RAINDROPS. 

Hear the softly falling raiu 
Lightly patter on the pane ! 
How it 'minds of little feet 
Treading lightly and so fleet 
Childhood's fair and sunny way, 
Strewn with garlands fresh and gay, 
And where bird-like all day long 
Each heart sang its merry song, — 

Ned and Harry, bold and free, 
Always kind as kind could be ; 
Gentle Allie, whose blue eyes 
Vied in beauty e'en the skies; 
Katie dear, so blithe and gay, 
Whiled the pleasant hours away 
With her frolic and her fun. 
Who was never quite out-done. 

Earth seemed full of endless bliss. 
They ne'er had felt betrayal kiss. 
Sheltered beneath parental arms, 
All life's wild and fierce alarms 
Clouded not the rosy light 
Of the morning, fresh and bright, 
Holding out to them life's cup 
That was nought but joy to sup. 



150 RAINDROPS. 

Ned and Harry grew to men, 
Sought them homes in forest glen 
On the frontier borders wild, 
Where Ned found sweet Nature's child 
Beautiful and fair to see, 
Blushing, innocent, and free. 
Well he knew the wooer's part, 
Won and kept her pure young heart. 

AUie, one bright summer day, 
Kissed them all, and passed away. 
Katie dear is gray and old, 
Borne life's cares manifold ; 
Drank a brimful cup of life, 
Found it all with sorrow rife. 
Slie o'er Allie's grave oft wept. 
Thought how peacefully she slept. 



TO 151 



TO 

Death earnest down with dark, cold hand, 
And took away one of our band, 
The sweetest, gentlest of us all. 
And placed o'er her the raven pall, 
On which we scattered lilies white. 
And laid them low, far out of sight. 

In the grave we look not now 
For her who wore the snowy brow. 
The form that lield that sonl so rare 
We know doth rest in silence there ; 
But all the light hath risen above, 
Where angels dwell in peace and love. 

Forever now thy soul wilt be 

At rest in heaven, from sorrow free; 

And thou wilt gaze upon the form 

Of Him who breasted all the storm 

Of God's just wrath, and through whose love 

Thou didst so sweetly pass above. 

When tliou with all the ethereal band 
Dost float, with golden harp in hand, 



152 TO . 

And waftest near this distant world, 
Oh, deign to pause with wings unfurled, 
And kiss away the falling tear 
We shed for thee, we loved so dear ! 



THE CALL. 153 



THE CALL. 

Do you hear the call, fathers of our land ? 
The foe is marching, a merciless band, 
Steadily on ; while swiftly runs 
This call to you, fathers : " Defend your sons ! 
Arise in your miglit to meet the host, 
Arming yourself to the uttermost !" 

They would take from your arms your guileless boy, 

Would dazzle his sight with a golden toy. 

A jewelled wine-cup filled to the brim, 

Which he drinks and drinks till his sight grows dim, 

Till he's mad with the hellish fire that burns 

In his heart and brain. All your prayers he spurns, — 

A wretched victim, in his yonthfnl prime, 

Hushing wildly on from crime to crime. 

Till his hands are stained with his brother's blood, 

Or he is laid, a loathsome tbing, 'neath the sod. 

Can you close your ears, then, to the call ? 
If so, let destruction on you fall. 
God forbid ! Arise in your might. 
And conquer the enemy to flight ! 
Let not the influence of rich men bind 
Your souls to servitude of such a kind. 



154 THE CALL. 

But, instead, let the sordid render up 
Their innocent children to the cup ! 

O you, the noble of the land, 
Fully equipped, undaunted stand ! — 
Stand for the honor of your homes, 
Your country's welfare, and that which comes 
From service rendered to virtue's cause 
In the right maintenance of the laws, 
"Which hold the country's peace secure. 
Thus your own happiness making sure. 



THE ROSE. 155 



THE KOSE. 

A sweet rose lay on Edith's breast, 

Hovering among the filmy lace, 
Like a lovely bird in its own home nest 

Built in some favorite place. 

Now it kisses her cheek so fair, 

Then peeps out with delicate grace, 

When over it falls her wavy brown hair 
As she turns from me her face. 

Now with a vivid blush it glows 
When her dark eyes meet my gaze. 

It seems without doubt to be a living rose 
As it smiles in half amaze. 

Trembling at something I could not tell, 
And with every breath that she drew 

Deepening and paling, as if under some spell. 
Until to my own heart there flew 

A shaft from Cupid's unerring bow ; 

For, O joy ! I soon discovered 
It was not the rose was agitated so. 

But Love, who beneath it hovered. 



156 BABY IS ASLEEP I 



BABY IS ASLEEP ! 

Baby is asleep, wake her not. 
Oh, so fast asleep ! Blest lot ! 
Hands folded lightly, 
Lying quietly. 
Speak softly, baby is asleep ! 

Baby is asleep ! Heavenly dreams 
Delight her now. Their light streams 
O'er her fair brow. 

They will ever flow 
Peacefully as now, fast asleep. 

Baby is asleep ! Music rings 
In her enraptured ear ; she sings 
With the angel throng 

TV ho to heaven belong. 
Wake her not, let her sleep. 



EVELYN. 



EVELYN". 

I remember that sweet time 
When onr young hearts beat the chime 
Of love's first exquisite dream, 
While we wandered down the stream 
Flowing by air-castles' walls, 
Where bright fancy's bugle-calls 
Wake the echoes far and near, 
" Happiness reigns ever here, — 
Happiness without alloy, 
Life is all made up of joy." 

Why was it that some friendly hand did not 
Then and there, when I had breathed my love 
To her, strike me to earth, and save my soul 
From such an awakening, such a lifelong 
Misery? 'Twas the month of rosy June, 
When Nature fills all her sweet bowers with bloom. 
And the grass is strewn with buds and blossoms. 
There, 'mong the fragrance, and the song of birds. 
The passionate words in my heart leaped forth, 
As her two hands I held within my own, 
And forward leaned to catch the faintest word ; 
And when it faltered on her lips, but spoke 
Within her eyes, oh, what joy, joy too deep 
For utterance, filled my throbbing heart ! 



160 EVELYN. . 

Oh, happy hour, when o'er the soul 

The morn of love first beams, 

And the dull billows of life that roll 

Changes to rosy gleams, 

As on the golden sands of time 

They break with silver bell's sweet chime ! 

Oh, happy dreams of earthly bliss 

When, seated side by side, 

Love paints a world more fair than this 

Among the clouds that glide 

Along the sky in fleecy folds ! 

Earth no sweeter theme for mortal holds. 

Oh, happy moments, when we feel 

There's but one cup of bliss. 

And that 'tis quaffed as oft we steal 

From lips we love a kiss ! 

'Tis joy complete when hearts thus meet •■ 

And feel the rapture with which they beat. 

"We waited long, until the setting sun 

Threw his last ling'ring beam o'er all the sky, 

Which felt the ray, and soon to crimson blushed. 

E'en the tranquil lake one dark ruby seemed. 

My love and I both felt that Nature took 

Cognizance, and smiled upon our bliss. 

It was hard to part for so short a time 

As the morrow's morn, and we lingered long 

O'er parting words whispered o'er and o'er again. 



EVELYN. 161 

n. 

M.J mother and I lived in a quiet 

Tillage, looking out upon a lake, fed 

By living springs it was said. Moss}^ rocks 

Rose high above it, from which the trailing vines 

Hung gracefully adown their rugged sides. 

Along its edge the drooping willow sprays 

Kissed the incoming waves, while on its brink 

The happy children played at sailing boats, 

Or pebbles tossing to hear the plashing sound 

As into the clear crystal depths below 

They fell, and with sweet rippling laughter watch 

The shining bubbles rise and float to meet 

Their small dimpled feet. Peace and quiet reigned. 

The seasons came and went lovingly, not 

One by one alone, but clasping hands. 

It was the place where one wishing to leave 

The striving world behind could find repose. 

Oh, 'tis pleasure rich as rare 
Dame Nature's joys to share. 
To roam the mountain high. 
To gaze upon the sky, 
There to watch the cloudlet dim 
Through the ether lightly skim, 
Blown by heavenly breeze along 
To the skylark's matin song, 
Tinged with sun's first golden ray 
As he ushers in the day ; 



162 EVELYN. 

Or to gather blooming flowers, 

One of Nature's fairest dowers, 

Lighting every shady nook, 

Nodding to the babbling brook 

On the balinj summer air, 

Flinging out their perfume rare. 

Then to wander in the shade 

By her stately forests made. 

Oh, what treasure there we find 

In bright moss of every kind, 

Cov'ring o'er the fallen tree, 

That decay we may not see, 

Carpeting the jagged rock. 

Robing o'er the sturdy oak, 

Hanging from his branches grim. 

Trailing down from limb to limb. 

Then the lay the wild wind weaves, 

The sunlight shimm'ring through the leaves, 

The timid hare darting by, 

Glancing fear from out his eye, 

The wood-bird from his dusky throat 

Sending forth his silver note. 

Why 'twas we had no other friends beyond 

The kind villagers, I knew not. I felt 

That some dark rayst'ry o'er my mother hung 

Like a cloud, which she would not, or could not. 

Lift, or share with me. From childhood the min'ster 

Near by had been my tutor, taught me all 

I knew of books. Oft I wandered alone 



EVELYN. 163 

Up and down, and beneath some shady tree 

Or sheltering rock would sit me down to read 

And pondei'. So I came one daj to hear 

A voice which I never had heard befoie, 

Trilling like a sweet wild bird. 'Twas in some nook 

Near bj, for as I paused to listen, there came 

Fluttering to ray feet, a dainty scarf 

Of heaven's own hue. Just as I stooped to raise 

It, I heard the same voice say, " Excuse me, 

The scarf is mine, the wind snatched it away." 

I turned. There, like some bright vision, she stood, 

Robed in white, holding out a lily hand. 

While gazing on her face, with courage new, 

I said, " Not, sweet spirit of earth or air, 

Will I this scarf return until I know 

Who thou art, thy name." While I spoke, a blush 

Crept o'er her fair white cheek like rose at dawn 

O'er cloud of snow, and still intenser grew. 

When she said, " I'm the Judge's daughter. We 

came 
But yester eve to escape the city's din. 
My name is Evelyn." So it began, 
Our first acquaintance ; and oft, ay, at last 
We daily met, until ray thoughts were all 
Of her, sweet Evelyn, my love, my pride ! 

m. 

With her parting kiss clinging to my lips, 

I quickly sought my mother, and upon 

Her pale, sweet face found the old look of pain ; 



164 EVELYN. 

But as I passed within tlie door, she raised 

Her head, saying, " What lights your face, my son 1 

It is aglow as yonder sky just now." 

1 could not speak at first for joj. When I did, 

It was with averted head, feeling snre 

Of sympathy. Not one word, but instead 

There canio o'er her face such a look of pain, 

I caught her in my arms, thinking it was 

Some sudden illness ; but to my anxious 

Words she said, " No, it is this dreadful news.' 

And with a wail of woe, she cried, " No, no ! 

It cannot be, it cannot be !" Then came 

Quickly to me a promise that I gave 

To her a long time before, wdiich was 

That I would never wed, — would consecrate 

My life to God, and be his minister. 

" Do not grieve, dear mother," I said. "Her love 

Has changed the world to me. What seemed so hard 

At first, is easy now ; for I told her 

All your wish, and she said, ' Yes, dear Edward, 

I will help you.' Oh, do not look so sad ! 

Siie will love and comfort you." — " Hush, my son! 

You know not what you say. Oh, I thought God, 

AVho is so good, in his mercy would save. 

Kindly save us from such an hour as this ; 

But how vain the hope ! The time has come when 

I the truth must tell," She buried her face 

In her trembling hands, while like some frail, weak 

Plant her form swayed 'neath the storm of woe 

Which then assailed; while I stood spell-bound with 



EVELYN. 165 

An awful dread that seized upon my soul. 
At length she gained sufficient self-control 
To speak the words, and in a falt'ring voice, 
So changed I knew it not, she said, " My son, 
Your father— is— " She paused. " Tell me !" I 

cried. 
" M}' father !" — " is a felon in chains !" 
With an agonized cry I staggered back. 
Then she arose, took one step forward, swayed. 
And, reaching out her arms, fell at my feet 
As dead. I raised her form, I knew not how, 
While those terrible words rung in my ears, 
" Your father is a felon in chains." For days 
It was all the sound I heard, that voice 
Repeating over and over those words. 
Blasting, — irretrievably blasting, — 
My dearest hope in life, my love, my love ! 

O Evelyn, lost Evelyn ! 

My heart still longs for thee ; 
Yes, longs for thee at evening, when 

The dewdrops from the tree 
Rain on the grass, and gleam like gems, 

As my tears fall o'er thee. 

The birds of morning sing of thee. 

At evening once again ; 
Among the flowers thy face I see. 

Blooming brightly as when 
The slanting beams of setting sun 

Shone o'er it in the glen. 



166 EVELYN. 

Tlie zephyrs breathe tliy name at night, 

The winds doth it repeat, 
'Tis rippled by the wavelets bright, 

At noon sounds soft and sweet ; 
And this fond heart at every beat 

Doth " Evelyn " repeat. 

Sweet Evelyn, I said, shall never know 
Whom she hath loved. I will remain to her 
Unstained. She shall mourn for me as one dead. 
A hasty note I penned, assuring her 
Of love undying, saying, "We must part, 
And if not here again, — -oh, how that wrung 
My heart ! — and if not here again, in heaven 
We shall meet." And then farewell ! I sought 
My mother and said, " We will go away 
With all our grief and pain, and live unknown." 

Adieu, my childhood's home, adieu ! 
My eyes look fondly back on you. 
For in your lovely boWers I leave 
All that my heart holds dear, and grieve 
To part so soon. Ah ! none may know 
The trial 'tis to leave you so ! 

Home, where ray childish feet have strayed ; 
Home, where the sports of youth I played ; 
The summer hour, the nutting time. 
The winter tales, the bell's sweet ehime, 
The games upon the schoolhouse lawn, — 
All, all are past, forever gone. 



EVELYN. 167 

O halcyon days of youth, how sweet ! 

When time flings garlands at our feet, 

And when each heart at every beat 

Throws blood that's warm with summer heat 

Of robust health ; when exercise 

Paints red our cheeks, and lights our eyes. 

Hoping that change might dull the pain within 
Oar weary hearts, we wandered North and South, 
West and East again. It was fruitless all ; 
And, despite her will, I could plainly see 
That my mother was sinking day by day ; 
And feeling, I am sure, that the end was near. 
She plead with me cheerfully to bide my fate. 
Then my poor heart cried out with pain, "I might, 
I could, if it was not for her I love." 
A shadow came quickly over her brow, 
A dimness to her eyes I knew was death. 

Life on earth is past. 
Rest in heaven at last! 
Eyelids closed in sleep 
As all time as deep ! 
Softest whisper said, 
" Let me lay my head 
On your breast, my son !" 
Quickly heaven was won. 

Thy fair, sweet face, my mother dear, 
Is framed within my heart. 



168 EVELYN. 

And oft for thee the falling tear 

Doth all unbidden start ; 
Nor time, nor change, can e'er efface 

Or take it from my heart. 

Tliy gentle hand, how oft 1 feel 

Its touch upon my brow, 
As sleep doth o'er me gently steal. 

And dreams their glamour throw, 
And make the past the present seem, 

With childhood's sun aglow ! 

Again I feel thy loving arms 

Around me closely pressed, 
As when I came in grief's alarms 

To lean upon thy breast. 
Feeling thy love could always soothe, 

1^0 matter how distressed. 

IV. 

With two o'erpowering spirits alone I lived, — 

One whose cold hand of steel, when laid upon 

My shrinking soul, held it as the iron 

Fetter holds the poor prisoner chained to his 

Dungeon cell ; the other, sweet, alluring. 

Who my whole heart possessed, and oft my soul 

Entranced with visions of forbidden joy. 

It was vain effort, wholly vain, to try 

To o'ercorae either, for I was o'ercome 

By both. To break their spell, I crossed the sea, 

And in foreign lands tried to live as though 



EVELYN. 169 

I had never lived before ; to forget 
Tlie past. So onward I traveled from clime 
To clime, leaving the civilized world behind. 
On the Congo's turbid waters I slept, 
With none but a savage horde for a crew. 
In his favorite haunts the leopard I sought, 
And in the jungles's depths the lion's whelps. 
Then from the Nile to Mecca I went, thence 
To Athens, and from Athens back to Eonie, 
Where, northward traveling, Switzerland I gained. 

'Tis winter on the Alps. The glittering snows 
Rest not alone upon their peaks, but throws 
Its whiteness far adown their rugged sides, 
Where it falls upon the lake's frozen tides, 
Like winding-sheet o'er the face of the dead, 
From whence the rippling smiles of life have fled. 

Staubbach and the Lauterbrunnen, that sing 

So ravishingly sweet as forth they fling 

Upon the summer air their misty veils, 

Are both silent now, while the fierce wind wails 

And moans, causing the shepherd's cheek to blanch, 

As it heralds a falling avalanche. 

O mighty Eigher, towering far on high I 

Time, clouds, storms, thou dost defy. 

Beneath thy crest thy rugged face is seen ; 

The drift of thy white locks well becomes the scene. 



170 EVELYN. 

But time, nor chanpje of any sort, could chase 
Her dear image from out my loving heart. 

Oh, those blissful hours long gone by ! 

Would I could live them o'er again, 
Could feel the glances of thine eye. 

And the soft touch of thy dear hand ! 
'Twonld ease within this heart the pain, 

Would cool the fever in my brain. 
To hear the sweet tones of thy voice 

Once again would forever drown 
The clanking, clanking of the chain, 

The sound of prison bolts and bars, 
Would remove from me their dark stain. 

Methouglit I was then pure as thou. 

I had no other wish or dream 
But to wear God's seal upon my brow, 

And preach the riches of his name ; 
But that dread crime at first did seem 

To crush from out my heart the beam 
Of his own love divine, left nought 

But very blackness of darkness 
And clanking chain, wearing a seam 

Through my weary, weary brain. 
The past and present were a dream 

V. 

The longing once more to tread those dear paths 
Which Evelyn the bright, the beautiful, 



EVELYN. 171 

Had trod with me, I could no more resist. 

IIow it came to be, I did hardly know. 

But so it was I found myself upon 

The verge of that loved spot where we so oft 

Had met. Autuum reigned in place of fragrant 

June ; 
And o'er the paths, yet green, the sighing winds 
Scattered the scarlet leaves and withered. 

List to the lay the wild wind weaves, 
Singing among the fresh green leaves, 
Fanning the wild flower's modest cheek, 
In a wayward, frolicsome freak. 
Shaking the dew gems from the vine 
That doth lightly o'er the casement twine. 

Hark ! how it chants its wild, wild lay 

Down where the ocean's fierce waves play ! 

Chanting among the jagged rocks 

That long have stood old ocean's shocks ; 

Chanting wild and wilder, until 

Its echoes their wave- worn arches fill. 

Hear how it moans in autumn time, 
Beating a sad, sad funeral chime, 
Over the summer birds now fled ; 
Over the summer blossoms dead ; 
Moaning while Dame Nature weeps 
Over the grave where her darling sleeps. 



172 EVELYN. 

Oft those things which our future most affect 
Pass unheeded by as of least account. 
So, when I stood fondly picturing her 
Slight form's inimitable grace, it was 
That a funeral train darkened the scene 
With its drooping plumes and sable pall, 
Whereon was laid a lily wreath, white as snow. 

Thy pictures, O memory, are not all 

Of woe. Thou canst paint as well scenes of joy ; 

And oft thy touch brings back the loved and lost 

To live and breathe, if not to speak again. 

So, as I gazed on each familiar scene, 

Her form was pictured to my view. It was 

Here we gathered lilies, and there the sweet 

Wild rose ; and here she twined the wreath I placed 

Upon her head, calling her queen of flowers. 

Still wand'ring on to where the path turned towards 

The moss-grown rock, where I told her my love, 

I found all changed ; the moss-grown rock was gone, 

And in its place there gleamed a pure white stone. 

How it seared my sight as a sudden fear 

Clutched my heart ! I hurried to the spot. Yes, 

Tliere I found, laid upon the new-turned earth. 

The lily-wreath ; and on the stone's white face 

Her name, "Evelyn," engraven deep. 

My own dear Evelyn, my pride, 
Oh that I too, like thee, had died ! 
Like thee found rest and peace at last — 
This gloomy life and world had passed — 



EVELYN. 173 

Above, beyond the stars of night, 
Far, far away from earthly blight, — 
Asleep beneath the dewy grass, 
That sparkles -when the night winds pass, 
And nods and waves. Well, I loved thee. 
And oft thy form comes back to me ; 
Comes, as thou used to come, in white, 
Beneath the moonbeam's sheeny light, 
Surrounded by soft flutt'ring things 
That I always took for wings. 

I waited long beside her grave, until 
The stars and moon waned into dawning day ; 
And when I arose, cold and damp, it was 
As though in her gi-ave beneath I had lain. 
And arisen with all but my heart. That was 
Buried with Evelyn, lost Evelyn. 



MINOR POEMS, 



THERESA. 

Theresa beneath the vines, 

In view of the Apennines, 

Gathering the purple fruit, 

And wearing a rustic suit 

Of apron and scanty gown, 

With lier white sleeves falling down ; 

A quaint thing upon her head, 

Which was woven from the thread 

Her own deft hands had spun, 

And bleached in the noonday sun. 

Notwithstanding the sky is fair, 
A cloud is hovering there. 
It dims the light of her eye, 
And calls from her heart a sigh ; 
For, glancing far down below. 
She sees the camp where he must go, 
Guiseppe, who gave her a dove, — 
Guiseppe, her own heart's love. 
Oh, grief, that he must go 
Soon to tight the foreign foe ! 



178 A RACE WITH THE STORM-KING. 



A EACE WITH THE STORM-KING. 

Sweet Mary, maiden, tripped along. 
Over a path made green by June, 

Humming lightly some sweet song, 
It may have been an old love tune. 

The sun shone bright on daisies white 
That nodded gently as she passed ; 

The meadow-lark was startled quite 
By a shower of daisies o'er him cast. 

She came upon a crystal brook 
That ran across the meadow-land, 

And paused in its clear face to look, 
And touch the ripples with her hand. 

A shadow dark she chanced to spy 

Was creeping o'er the sunlight bright, 

And, looking up across the sky. 
She saw a cloud as dark as night. 

" Now for a race with the storm-king there !" 
And she paused to renew her strength. 

A deep-drawn breath of purest air 

She quaffed, and onward sped at length. 



A RACE WITH THE STORM-KING. 179 

The maiden's cheek grew rosier red ; 

Her bhie orbs shone like Yenus bright ; 
Her hat blew from her nut-brown head, 

And hung around her neck so white. 

The storm king, mutt'ring, onward came, 
And darkened all the earth and skj ; 

The lightning flashed a vivid flame; 
The thunder seemed its strength to try ; 

And he with rage still fiercer grew, 
Bending way o'er the tree-tops high ; 

The vines far out like streamers blew ; 
The maiden still did swiftly fly. 

And as she merged into the road, 

A youth she met whom well she knew, 

Her cheeks and eyes more brightly glowed 
While on she faster, faster flew. 

She gains the sill just as the storm 

Bursts forth with all a tempest's might, 

And throws her palpitating form 
Upon a couch with laughter light. 



180 THE HUMMING-BIRD. 



THE HUMMING-BIRD. 

Like a ray of light, a humming-bird came 

In at my door, darting swiftly here and there. 
"Oh, if I could this tiny wild thing tame!" 

1 thought, and just then it paused in mid-iiir. 
I caught it. Its little heart beat so fast, — 

It panted with impotent fear, I could see, — 
That when I gently o'ercame it at last, 

I said, '"Tis a pity ; it shall go free. 

" On one condition only can you go. 

Which is that you will bear this to one I love. 
Be sure not to let anybody know !" 

Then I kissed it, and held my hand above, 
"When, opening it, swiftly away it flew. 

Over the hedges towards where you dwell. 
How shall I know that it ever reached you ? 

By some intuition I'm sure I can tell. 



A SONG. 181 



A SONG. 

He sailed away o'er the deep blue sea, 
Far from his own loved home and from me- 
Away where the nautilus skims the deep, 
Where the pearl and coral silently sleep, 
Where the odor of spices fill the breeze, — 
Sailed away o'er the tropical seas. 

Oh, return, my love, from over the sea ! 
Return to your own loved home and to me! 
He and I know of a secret true, 
If you will not lisp it, I'll tell to yon. 
When he shall return from over the sea, 
The wedding-bells then will ring merrily. 



182 THREE STAGES. 



THREE STAGES. 

A sweet little bud jnst dropped from the sky, 
"With purity glancing from out each blue eye, 
And lily-white cheeks with dimples, where hide 
The seraph-like smiles that o'er its face glide. 

A half-unclosed bud, with promise so sweet, 
And bright laughing eyes 'tis pleasure to greet, 
And peachy-soft cheeks with health's rosy glow, 
And hair with shimmer of gold in its flow. 

A full-blown rose just moistened with dew, 
And eyes glancing light of soul pure and true, 
Ripe lips where plays a womanly smile. 
And cheeks whereon lurks no shadow of guile. 



SERENADE. 183 



SERENADE. 

My life, my dream, my flower, 

My lily by the lake, 
My rose within a bower, 

Awake, awake, awake ! 

The night birds softly sing 
To woo thee to my side ; 

The flowers sweet are blooming 
For thee, my love, my pride. 

This ardent soul outleaps 
Its prison walls and bars. 

And flies where beauty sleeps, 
Beneath the light of stars. 

It sees the soft arm thrown 
Above the golden head. 

The eyelids drooping down, 
The mouth a rosebud red. 

It hears a whisper fall 

From dewy lips, — a word. 

'Tis faint, and this is all, 
" My own dear Edouard ! " 



184 SERENADE. 

Wliat bliss of lieaven 'twould be 
In truth to hear thee speak 

Endearing words to me 

With bhislies on tliy cheek ! 

And by yon sliining moon 
That scales the vaulted sky, 

I'll claim of thee the boon 
Of life and love, or die. 



THE SNOWDROP. 185 



THE SNOWDROP. 

How came you awake at this hour, 
You dear little delicate flower, 
With petals so white and pearly ? 
How caine you awake so early ? 

I am neither thin nor very old, 
Yet with all my wraps I feel the cold ; 
While you, who have nothing at all to do, 
Are out with only a leaf or two. 

Did you not sleep well under the snow, 
That you came forth, I should like to know? 
Or were you mistaken about the time 
When snowdrops should appear in their prime? 

Perhaps you wanted to be the first 
Of all the beautiful flowers to burst 
Old Winter's fetters, and o'er the plain 
To lead Spring forth with her floral train. 

Or it may be you did long to hear 
The robin's quaint note so loud and clear, 
Or the bluebird's first sweet warbling song. 
No ? Then it was the woodpecker's gong ;— 



186 THE SNOWDROP. 

For in that limb just over your head 
I see where lie had his winter bed ; 
Doubtless he awoke you from your nap 
With his oft-repeated " Tap, tap rr-rap 



BIRDS OF SPRING. 187 



BIRDS OF SPRING. 

Trooping o'er the meadows, 
Chatter, chatter, chatter! 

Greeting pussy willows. 
Twitter, twitter, twitter ! 

Phiming each light wing, 

Sipping at the spring, 

P'litting here and there, 

Sweet birds everywhere! 

First awake at morning, 

Chirping, chirping, chirping ! 

First to greet the day-king. 
Trilling, trilling, trilling! 

Then a happy fly 

Far up in the sky. 

Cumins: back to rest 

And to take breakfast. 

Choosing glossy mate. 

Flatter, flatter, flatter ! 
In doubt which one to take, 

Flutter, flutter, flutter! 
Ditiicult task to do, 
To find a mate that's true, 
Perfect in evei-y tiling. 
From bill to tip of wing. 



188 BIRDS OF SPRING 

Fixing np the old nests, 

Busy, busy, busy ! 
Bringing sticks for new rests, 

Hurry, hurry, hurry ! 
Bits of moss and thread 
Make a downy bed 
To roll the eggs about 
While they're hatching out. 

Watching the butterfly, 

Slily, slily, slily ! 
Trying like birds to fly, 

Silly, silly, silly ! 
As if a worm could vie 
With birds that always fly, 
Although their wings so quaint 
With gaudy colors paint. 

Singing to daisies white 

Sweetly, sweetly, sweetly ! 
And to buttercups bright, 
^ Gayly, gayly, gayly ! 
To snowdrops emerald set, 
Crocus and violet, 
Cheerily, cheerily sing, 
Birds of the early spring. 



THE WIND-FLOWER. 189 



THE WIND FLOWER. 

(the anemone.) 

Sweet flower of the wind, 

So fragile and so fair, 
'Twas not the hurricane's fierce breath 

That woke thy beauty rare. 

Nay, ratlier zephyr light, 

With gentlest airy wing, 
Should fan thy spirit sweet to life 

While night birds softly sing. 

And gentle dew distills 

Elixir from the skies, 
To lightly moisten thy sweet lips, 

That incense may arise. 



^ij.[) THE SNOW. 



THE SNOW. 

Ob, the white falling snow, 

So still and so gentle, 
Upon all you bestow 

Sweet Purity's mantle! 

The trees you make white, 

You slight not a twig. 
Here is a stem that looks quite 

Like white jessamine sprig. 

The hills are so bright 
In their glitt'ring mantle ; 

Oh, so pure and so white I 
Their slope is gentle. 

The little snowbirds 

Dart along together 
As they chatter love- words. 

They love the snow weather. 

Tlio merry bells' ring 
Startles memories dear. 

Oh, their sweet tinga-ling 

Sounds now far, and now near. 



THE SNOW. 191 

The merry schoolboy - 

Prints his foot iu the snow, 

As he whistles with joy 
In light, musical flow. 

Oh, may he be pure 

As the beautiful snow, 
And on life's page make sure 

Mark for truth, deep and low I 



192 GOLDEN-ROD. 



GOLDEN-EOD. 



golden-rod, bright golden-rod! 
Shall I see you now? Oh, no ! 

For, cooped within these city's walls, 

I cannot,, cannot go 
Where the tall trees wave their tinted plumes 

O'er the hedges where you grow. 

When did I see you, O golden-rod ? 

It was just one year ago, 
On the verge of the breeze-blown hills 

Where spring- fed brooklets flow. 
And you made the brown-leaved hazel wood 

Like a golden sunset glow. 

1 gathered your blooms, O golden-rod ! 
And upon these mantels stood. 

Thinking you would these sombre rooms 

Lighten with a golden flood 
Of autumn's rarest, sunniest hue, 

As you did the hazel wood. 

'Twas short-lived glory, O golden-rod ! 

For you drooped and paled so fast, 
Living out scarcely one short day. 

As if o'er 3'ou were cast 
A blight by some strange presence hero, 

Some spirit of the past. 



THE CLOUD. 193 



THE CLOUD. 

Fleecy cloud that floats in azure, 

Floats above in ethereal blue, 
Dost thou ne' er look back with pleasure 

Where the lily bells first grew 
On the margin of the lakelet, 

Fern wreathed beneath the willow bough, 
Fed by wand'ring mountain streamlet — 

Say, dost thou ne'er look back there now ? 

Why dids't thou leave thy quiet nook ? 

It was love's ardor, this 1 know. 
For yonder star did always look 

So sweetly on thy placid brow, 
That thou didst learn to love it so. 

Thou couldst no longer linger there, 
But left the lily bending low, 

And sought to gain thy favorite star. 

Thou hast failed to reach the height 
So far above thee where it dwells ; 

Still there it shines through all the night. 
But, oh, so coldl}' now it quells 



194: THE CLOUD. 

Tliy ardor ! Wouldst tliou return ? 

Ah ! that's denied thee ; only this, 
To weep for what thou then didst spurn,- 

The pure white lilj-bell's soft kiss. 



SING. LITTLE BIRDIE I 195 



SING, LITTLE BIRDIE! 

Sing, little birdie, sing 

On topmost branches high ! 

And when thou spreadst thy airy wing, 
Let not the sweet notes die, 

But longer, louder be. 

Until the echoes ring 
That hide away where none may see, 

But only hear them sing. 

Methinlvs that I could stay 

Forever with thee here, 
And list thy strain the livelong day, 

Forgetting sorrow's tear. 



196 THE BEGGAR CHILD. 



THE BEGGAK CHILD. 

A cold winter's storm swept down the dark street, 
Chilling the traveller with hurrjing feet, 
When a poor little child, barefoot, alone, 
Painfully treading the ice-covered stone. 
Came wandering along, homeless, forlorn, 
With nothing but rags her form to adorn. 
And begging of those with wealth untold, 
" Please, sirs, a penny ? I'm hungry and cold." 

Though often repulsed with oaths or a frown. 
Starvation still urges her weary steps on. 
And, with blinding tears filling her eyes. 
To father and mother in heaven she cries, 
" Come take, oh, take m.e up on high, 
For no one will hear my pitiful cry. 
Though often I've asked — I fear it was bold — 
' Ir'lease, sirs, a penny ? I'm hungry and cold.' " 

So all whom she meets go hurrying by, 
Treating with scorn the poor beggar's cry, 
Wiiile her fast-falling tears freeze in the storm. 
Starving and fainting, Jier weak little form 
Falls down on the ground, and bright angels bear 
Her spirit away their joys to share, 
And never to ask, where the streets are of gold, 
" Please, sirs, a penny ? I'm hungry and cold." 



OCTOBER. 197 



OCTOBER. 

Sun that sheds rich mellow beams ; 
Misty hills with golden gleams ; 
Ripe red fruit in emerald hung ; 
Empty nests where birdlings swung ; 
Trailing vines with crimson leaves ; 
Silence now beneath the eaves, 
Where swallows sung from morn till night 
A summer song of sweet delight. 

Brown nuts scattered o'er the ground ; 

And now and then a rustling sound 

Tells that a squirrel up aloft 

Has dropped a nut he has nibbled oft, 

For here upon its hardy shell 

We see the print we know full well 

Was made by squirrel's little tooth, — 

Made b}" him all in vain, forsooth. 

This dark, rich moss upon the tree 
Is dark and rich as moss may be, 
And to the touch it velvet is, 
So soft, so fine and silky, 'tis. 
Warm coat it makes for sturdy Oak, 
To shield his heart from winter's stroke. 
And hard it seems to use tlie knife ; 
But we with mischief now are rife. 



198 OCTOBER 

Bright leaves we gather one by one, 
Like gems beneath a tropic sun. 
Golden brown with specks of red, 
Scarlet leaves by sumac shed, 
Green with amber shades of light, 
Maple-leaves all golden bright, — 
They'd make a crown so rich and rare, 
It would do for any king to wear. 

The sun declines towards the hill, 
And sheds his rays upon the mill, 
Embedded soft in verdure light, 
Reflected in the water bright. 
As real landscape was below, 
With real sunbeams all aglow ; 
"While ripples circle here and there, 
As leaflets drop from branches fair. 



POESY. 199 



POESY. 

Poesy is a most wanton creature, 

Thinks himself a wonderful teacher. 

Upon every subject he will be heard, 

From Orion's belt to the song of a bird, 

From Talavera's plain to a maiden's bower, 

From describing Mont Elanc to describing a- flower. 

I fear his conceit cannot be o'ercome, 
For from metaphysics he drops to rum. 
As for love, why, his susceptible heart 
Never failed to feel its fiery dart. 
However blindly it may have been sent, 
Straightway to the core of his heart it went. 

No, there is nothing so wise or obtuse 
That he cannot put to immediate use 
Under the plea of inspiration. 
Oh, yes ! 'tis true he loves admiration. 
For without permission, there is no doubt, 
In the car of the sun he rides about. 



200 SOME TIME. 



SOME TIME. 

** Some time," to me a sweet voice said, 

" Some time, my dear !" whien oft 1 pled 

For things that ought to be denied. 

" Too long !" I all impatient cried, 

" Much too long is ' some time ' !" — " Not long, 

My child : be patient and be strong." 

Thus through life it has been the same, 
"When toiling hard for wealth and fame, 
When faint and weary, I would say. 
To cheer my heart, " Some time, some day, 
It soon will come, will not be long ; 
I must be patient, must be strong." 

When weary of the world's false show, 
And heaven's better joys would know. 
And longing to meet those gone before. 
Who wait upon the golden shore, 
I still repeat, " Some time, not long ; 
Be patient, weary heart, be strong." 



WE WOULD, O LORD! 201 



WE WOULD, O LORD ! 

We would, O Lord ! be clothed npoD, 
And fain would put thy garments on 
Of love and charity so sweet, 
That we for heaven might be meet. 

Appear we must before thy throne 
To answer for the works we've done ; 
And all the good we there shall greet, 
And all the evil, too, will meet. 

Help us to be more careful, then, 
More careful than we've ever been ; 
Help us to walk by faith, not sight, 
Give us the Holy Spirit's light I 



202 LORD, I BELIEVE. 



LORD, I BELIEVE. 

Lord, I believe and trust in thee, 
Living and acting by thy Word, 

And know that if I faithful be 

My life thou'lt crown with just reward. 

I long to enjoy the heavenly rest. 
And pant to drink the stream of bliss 

Prepared for those who stand life's test. 
To dwell with thee in Paradise. 

Yet, while I think I stand secure, 

I tremble, fearing I may fall ; 
But still I know I shall endure 

If constantly on thee I call. 

Oh, keep me safe ! Let nought allure ; 

Surround my soul on every side ; 
Keep me, O Lord ! as thou wert, pure. 

That I may long with thee abide. 



WHEN PERSECUTED, 203 



WHEN PERSECUTED. 

When persecuted and distressed, 
Used with despite and sorely pressed, 
I often would revengeful be, 
Would use the power belongs to Thee; 

For Thou hast said, " Vengeance is mine." 

" I will repay," are words of Thine. 

Oh, what could mortal wish for more 

Than thou. Great God, shouldst vengeance pour ? 

But when I think of thy fierce ire. 
And see the lake of burning fire, 
I feel what thy Son spake who knew ; 
« Porgive, they know not what they do." 



20i THE KESURRECTION MORN. 



THE EESUKKECTION MORN. 

To the sepulchre, that morning fair, 
Marj came in deep despair 
With spices to anoint her Lord, 
Whom meekly still she all adored, 

And found the angel standing there. 
So white, so radiantly fair, 
That prostrate to the earth she fell. 
Nor dared the Saviour's name to tell, 

When he, with voice of sweetest sound, 
Told her that Christ had quit the ground. 
Was now no more by death controlled, 
And she must haste the truth t' unfold. 



LOOK, O LORD 205 



LOOK, O LOED ! 

Look, O Lord ! in pity mild 
On a wayward, sinful child, 
One that's wandered far from tliee, 
And repentant now would be. 

Let the blood which from thy side 
Flowed in crimson torrent hide 
All the stain that sin hath made, 
Wlien so far from thee I strayed. 

Cover this repentant head 

With thy precious hand that bled ; 

Let it rest in mercy there ; 

Blessed Redeemer, hear my prayer ! 

Now I claim thy promise, Lord, 
Which thou gavest in thy Word ; 
He who does thy merits plead 
Is from sin and sorrow freed. 



206 COME TO CHRIST 



COME TO CHRIST. 

Oh, come, thou weary soul, to Christ, 
And lean upon his loving breast ! 
He'll comfort e'en the poorest one, 
The weakest, and the most undone. 

Oh, fly to him when danger's near! 
He'll shield, and will dispel your fear. 
One glance of his all-conqu'ring eye 
Will cause the powers of hell to fly. 

Come, O thou sin-sick soul, and rest I 
Come all and every one distressed ! 
For you he suffered pangs untold. 
And in the arms of death grew cold. 

He'll wipe away the falling tear. 
And whisper words your heart to cheer, 
And to thine eye of faith will show 
That home to which we long to go. 



THE MIGHTY NAME. 207 



THE MIGHTY NAME. 

When Satan comes with seeming might, 
And tries my timid heart t' affright, 
To break the power of faith's strong- link, 
My soul to east o'er death's dark brink, 

And points to mountains high and steep, 
With roaring torrents, chasms deep, 
And flitting forms t' allure my sight, 
My spirit's purer vision blight, 

I lift my heart and soul to Thee, 
The source of all the powers that be, 
And speak the Name, the mighty Name, 
That causes earth to blush in shame ; 

When, lo ! all visions take their flight, 
And leave the pathway straight and light. 
No fearful shapes, no rushing tide, 
But seraph forms walk by my side. 



208 ACQUAINTED WITH GRIEF. 



ACQUAINTED WITH GRIEF. 

Acquainted with grief, Thou who didst bear 
The weight of a world's sin, all its care, 
"When night cast her shadows dark around, 
Whose bloody sweat fell over the ground ? 

Acquainted with grief, Thou who didst weep 
O'er the grave of one in death's cold sleep, 
Whose eyes with friendship and love had shone. 
Whose hand Thou oft hadst held in Thine own ? 

Acquainted with grief. Thou who wast led 
A lamb to the slaughter, on whose head 
A crown of thorns with mocking was placed, 
Whose innocent death man's sin effaced ? 



TAKING DEEPER ROOT. 209 



TAKING DEEPER ROOT. 

I tried to drop a little seed 

To-day upon life's soil. 
Lord, send the nurture it doth need, 

The canker's power foil ! 

Oh, let thy sun's warm ray shine clear I 

The raindrops gently fall ; 
The zephyr's breath come floating near ; 

The happy birds' sweet call. 

Warming and cheering them to life, 
That they may upward shoot, 

Withstanding life's fierce hour of strife, 
So taking deeper root. 



210 SAVIOUR, 1 LIFT MINE EYES. 



SAVIOUR, I LIFT MINE EYES. 

Saviour, I lift mine eyes to thee 
Wlien in the hour of deep despair; 

When darkest waves roll over me, 
I trust thy merits and thy care. 

Tliy promises I know are sure, 
My soul doth on them safely rest ; 

And though dark clouds thy face obscure, 
I lean my head upon thy breast. 

The clouds depart. Thy face I see 
All glorious in its light of love. 

Thy pitying eyes look down on me, 
And peace surrounds like that above. 



THE BLESSED BOOK. 2H 



THE BLESSED BOOK. 

Oh, this blessed Book of Thine ! 
In each word is food divine, — 
Food to make the sick heart whole, 
Food for every hungry soul. 

Come, ye wounded ones, and find 
Balm for every troubled mind, — 
Balm to heal the sorrowing heart, 
Balm that bids all pain depart. 

In its pages strength is found, — 
Strength to bear life's deepest wound, 
Strength t' o'ercome fierce passion's might. 
Strength to speak and act aright. 

There is love for every one, — 
Love for sinners all undone. 
Love for poor in wretchedness. 
Love that speaks of blessedness. 

Here we find sure hope of heaven, — 
Hope by Christ tlie Saviour given, 
Hope that we through Him may rise 
To the realnjs above the skies. 



212 THE BLESSED BOOK. 

Oh, ne'er slight such worth as this ! 
It contains our all of bliss, — 
All, and more than we can think. 
Come and of this fountain drink 1 



O LORD! I FALTER. 213 



O LORD ! I FALTER. 

O Lord ! I falter, faint, and die, 
Unless thou strengthen me, 

And prostrate at thy altar lie, 
And humbly pray to thee. 

I'm helpless, Lord, and need thy aid ; 

I cannot see the way ; 
Oh, look upon a child dismayed. 

And hear nie while I pray ! 

Thou blest Redeemer, whom I trust. 
Reach down thy loving hand. 

And raise this body from the dust 
To do thy just command I 

Tiiy power, great God, is infinite, 

Thy charity and love. 
My life, my all, I now submit 

To thee who rules above. 



214 MY HEART ASPIRES. 



MY HEART ASPIRES. 

My heart aspires to thee, 

Thou Saviour of my soul ; 
I claim the blood thou shedd'st for mo 

To cleanse and make me whole. 

I know I'm frail and weak 

As any tender vine, 
And, reaching out, my soul would seek 

And cling. Lord, unto thine. 

I cannot all alone 

Withstand the tempest's strife ; 
Surrounded by cold hearts of stone, 

Without one throb of life, 

I should but fail and die ; 

But leaning upon thee, 
My ransomed soul may gain the sky, 

And blest forever be. 



HOPE. 215 



HOPE. 

Sweet inspiring hope, whose mild beam 
Shines far beyond this darksome stream 
Of time, where sorrow's cloud hangs low, 
And life's frail bark moves on but slow 
Towards heaven and heavenly things, 
Whence joy and comfort springs, — 

By thy pure ray the rainbow gleams 
In every earthly cloud, and streams 
' Across the river's flowing tide, 
Where earth-laden barks scarcely bide 
The rolling of the wave, 
Or all its power brave. 

Many poor striving ones would sink 
And fail heaven's blissful cup to drink, 
Shouldst thou remove thy cheering ray ; 
Would fail to walk in wisdom's way, 
Fail to reach that fair haven, 
Home of God above,— heaven. 



216 THE SIMPLE WAY. 



THE SIMPLE WAT. 

The simple way of holiness 
Is bright with many flowers 
Of hope and truth and happiness 
Kept fresh by heavenly showers, 

And dew that falls so quietly 
When sorrow's night is. near, — 
The time sweet flowers ope silently 
To greet the morning clear. 

Pure, untainted is the air 
From fumes of guilt and sin ; 
All is peaceful, bright, and fair, 
And free from earthly din. 

Many lovely forms I see 

Among the pilgrim throng 

That tread with lightest step, and free. 

The pathway all along, — 

Sweet Charity, with radiant crown 
Bestowed by band divine, 
That beams like stars of heaven come down 
Upon her brow to shine ; 



THE SIMPLE WAY. 217 

Witli Faith and Hope on eitlicr hand, 
Shedding their light around, 
And pointing to the heavenly land 
Where all by God are crowned. 



218 "BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM." 



"BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KXOW 
THEM." 

Are there none who need help, 

No starving mouths to fill, 
No dying head to be raised up, 

No hands to fold that are still ? 

No crippled ones to assist, 

No blinded eyes to aid, 
No tempted soul to help resist 

The power that sin hath made ? 

Shall selfish, wicked pride 

Keep us from giving food? 
Will gold and gems our souls lack hide, — 

The lack of doing good ? 

I fear that we shall hear 

The dreadful sentence given, 

" Depart ! Ye cannot enter here :" 
So lose our place in heaven. 



LORD, WE APPROACH THEE. 219 



LORD, WE APPROACH THEE. 

Lord, we approach thee through thy Son, 

And all his merits plead, 
For we are wretched and undone. 

Thy pardon, Lord, we need. 

We've trampled on thy precious word, 
And would not heed thy voice 

When kindly thou hast spoken, Lord, 
And left to us the choice. 

Saviour, our hope is all in thee. 

Thou'rt willing to forgive, 
Eor thou didst suffer on the tree 

That such as we might live. 



220 CHRISTMAS BELLS. 



CHRISTMAS BELLS. 

Oh, hear the Christmas bells' sweet sound, 
As they peal the whole earth around, 
Saying to all, " Tlie Godhead bends, 
To save a world he condescends;" 

Telling that in a manger, where 
The peaceful kine with him did share 
Their low abode, in flesh was born 
Our Lord on that first Christmas morn. 



IT IS THY CARE. 221 



IT IS THY CARE. 

When the sunshhic of life smiles sweetly down, 

And the earth seems lovely and fair, 
When fortnne is kind and our efforts doth crown, 

May we ne'er forget, Lord, 'tis thy care ! 

When friends that we love are clustered around, 
And death seems each dear one to spare, 

When joy in each cup that we quaff is found, 
May we ne'er forget, Lord, 'tis thy care ! 

When Sorrow comes with her clouds and her tears, 

For all in her fortune must share, 
And through the dark gloom hope's bright ray ap- 
pears, 

May we ne'er forget. Lord, 'tis thy care I 



222 O HEAVENLY FATHER! 



O HEAVENLY FATHER! 

O heavenly Father, God of love ! 
We raise our hearts to thee above, 
And all our wishes tell thee now, 
As lowly at 'thy throne we bow. 

We wish to be thine, wholly thine. 
Oh, let thy Spirit through us shine ! 
Cleanse every heart from sinful dross, 
Let not one by it suffer loss. 

We wish to build of percious stones 
On Him whose blood for all atones, 
That we may stand the fiery test, 
And in His arms at last find rest. 

We wish to bear all we should bear, 
And Satan's worst with thee would dare. 
Oh, make us all thou'dst have us be. 
That we may all thy glory see ! 

We wish, when chilly death draws near, 
Thou'dst take away from us all fear ; 
Then let thy presence round us shine. 
That we may taste of bliss divine. 



MAY THE HOLY SPIRIT. 223 



MAY THE HOLY SPIRIT. 

May the Holy Spirit guide us 
Safely through the troubled way ! 

May the heavenly ray beam brightly, 
Shining unto perfect day ! 

Let thy powerful hand uphold us 
When we reach the deeper gloom 

That surrounds the dreary portal 
Of the dark, forbidding tomb ! 

Bear us safe to yonder heaven, 
On the crystal sea to stand. 

In a song the Son adoring, 
Join the white-robed angel band. 



224 DWELL WITH ME. 



DWELL WITH ME. 

Live within my heavt, O Lord ! 

Dwell with me, I pi'ay ; 
Guide my every thought and word, 

Never let me stray. 

I would look on life through thee, 

All its joy and woe ; 
All its lessons I then should see, 

Where, and how to go. 

Darkness would be changed to light, 

Woe to joy would turn ; 
Tears no more would dim my sight, 

Sin 1 then should spurn. 

Blessed charity would shine, 

All around me then ; 
Every action be like thine, 

To my fellow men. 



GOD OF MERCY 1 225 



GOD OF MEKCY! 

God of Diercj bear me now ! 
Place thy seal upon my brow ; 
Take and keep my wayward beart, 
Bid impurity depart. 

Light the lamp of love therein, 
Love for mortals lost in sin ; 
Let its ray shine far and near, 
Telling of thy presence here. 

Holy words teach me to speak, 
Thy words, trnthfnl, gentle, meek ; 
Bidding all their sins forsake. 
Asking pardon for Christ's sake. 



226 WHEN I RECALL. 



WHEN I RECALL. 

When I recall iny sinfulness, 

And view this wicked heart of mine, 
I look upon Christ's perfectness. 

And rest my all on Him divine. 

O, take the dross from out my heart, 
Wash me, and make me pure within ; 

Bid every sinful thought depart, 

Surround and keep me safe from sin. 

Thou blessed Lamb of Calvary ! 

I live, and move, and act in thee ; 
With thee is strength and victory. 

Without, 1 utter weakness be. 



DEUS. 227 



DEUS. 

God, tlie Omnipotent, the great 1 Am ! 
From whom proceedeth all terrestrial things, 
And all celestial, on thy august throne 
Reclining majestic, midst seraphim 
And cherubim, gazing out before thee 
With eyes all-searching, but concentered, dark 
With their unfathomable thought. Dost thou 
View with satisfaction what thou hast wrought ? 
Those glowing orbs in illimitable space. 
Passing before thee in their onward course. 
Harmoniously revolving, but swift 
As the lightning's vivid flash, circle within 
Circle, and all around one common centre. 
Shall they remain forever as now ordained, 
Fixed within their orbit, and unchanged? 
Or do they, like this world on which we dwell, 
Await a nod, or word, from thee to be 
Resolved into their primitive essence ? 
Or, is this only the darksome stage of slow 
Development ; the sun's burning rays 
Tlie crucial fires through which all must pass, 
In order to reach some higher sphere 
There to become the radiant centres 
Of other systems still more glorious ? 



228 DEUS. 

Who knoweth thy thoughts, or can fathom Thee ; 
Or catch the sound of thy voice when Thou spcaketh 
To the universe, or hear the noise 
Of thy chariot wheels, or see thy face ? 
Surely not we whom Thou didst fashion with 
Thy hand ; giving us minds only sufficient 
To meditate upon thy visible works 
In order to learn of thee what Thou hast 
In store for us ; the possibility 
At last of being lifted up to enjoy 
Peace and love ineffable with thee. 



THE END. 



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